


Labyrinth of Heart and Thought

by dentedsky



Category: Dissidia Duodecim: Final Fantasy, Dissidia: Final Fantasy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alliances, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Cloud/Kuja endgame, Community: smallfandombang, Duodecim alliances, Fantasy, Kidnapping, Language, M/M, Magic, Magical Illness, Misplaced humour, Possession, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Sephiroth/Cloud unrequited, Squall/Bartz endgame, Temporary Character Death, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dentedsky/pseuds/dentedsky
Summary: Cloud kidnaps Zidane to save Kuja and everything goes to hell.





	1. Path to Gods and Stones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [danceswithgary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/gifts).



> [Cover art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237184) by danceswithgary.
> 
> This is set in a late cycle (10th or 11th), and uses more of the lore from Dissidia than of Duodecim (ie, Bartz and Squall have been in many cycles up until the timeline of this fic, and characters lose memories when they lose battles/war). However, it takes the alliances from Duodecim (Cloud, Tidus and Terra are with Chaos, Jecht is with Cosmos).
> 
> I started writing this in October 2017 when I started getting hyped up for Dissidia NT. Now that I've finished NT's story mode, I like to think this fic fits in with its canon as well as the PSP games (only my ships seem to be non-existent in NT, unsurprisingly I bawwww'd about that for a ridic long time :|)
> 
> Big thanks to spikedluv for organising the small fandoms big bang so well and for putting up with all my dumb emails. And of course thank you to danceswithgary for the cover art that I am just so psyched about having in my hot little internet hands.

It was a long marble bench Cloud rested his folded arms and head upon, feeling beyond boredom and loneliness to a kind of fatigue that set itself in his bones.  He had been walking the labyrinth for a year, trying to map it, but it was so large.  As soon as he had mapped one floor, another appeared.  And when he grew tired, he went back to his camp and slept, only to get up the next day to start his exploration anew.

There was a tapping noise, like fingernails.  Like impatience.

“Let’s set the scene,” he heard Kuja say.

Cloud lifted his head and blinked at him.  Kuja was standing on the other side of the long bench, giving Cloud a confident, heavy-lidded half-smile.

Kuja spread his arms.  “This is our stage.  Shall it be, hmmm…” He tapped his chin once in thought.  “…A public house.”

“A what?” said Cloud.

“A ‘pub’ for short.”

“You mean, like, a bar?”

Kuja’s lips thinned with impatience.  “Yes Cloud, a bar.”  He spread his arm out wide, gesturing to the empty room at large.  The whole room was made of black and white marble and nothing else – cold and bereft.  But Kuja said, “There are many tables and chairs.  You even have some patrons sipping their beverages and discussing current events.  In the corner, a bard is playing a song on his fiddle.”  He turned back to Cloud and looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, um,” Cloud cleared his throat.  “Welcome to Seventh Heaven.  What’s your poison?”

Delight flashed in Kuja’s eyes.  Cloud supposed Kuja was a bit like a child, wanting someone to play with him.

“I’ve got – “ Cloud looked around at nothing, but in his imagination his bar was stocked with all kinds of alcohol.  “Wine?  Or um, I’ve got beer on tap.  Pale ale, or lager – “

“Do I look like a plebeian?” said Kuja.  “No.  I desire two fingers of whiskey, and give me something aged at least four years; none of the cheaper, watered-down muck you sell to the locals.”

Cloud didn’t actually have any whiskey. Or beer, or wine, for that matter.  But he summoned a flask of potion into his hand, unscrewed the cap, and poured a shot of the green liquid into the cap, before placing it on the bench in front of Kuja.

Kuja took a sip.  “Adequate.”  He looked up and down the bench.  “Some public houses offer hors d'oeuvres.”

Cloud raised his eyebrows.  “Like peanuts or something?”  Cloud wished he had food; there wasn’t any food in this realm at all.  It seemed that no one felt hunger or needed the sustenance, but regardless, Cloud missed _eating_.

He thought about it.  Then, he removed his shoulder pauldron and placed it on the bench.  With one hand, he summoned some of the little items he’d found around the labyrinth throughout his travels: shards, crystals, orbs, and the occasional ring and pendant.  They dropped into the pauldron that now acted like a bowl.

Kuja looked into it, then raised an eyebrow at Cloud.  “Or _something_.  Some of these accessories are pretty useful, you know,” he added, breaking the act for a moment.

Cloud shrugged.  “I haven’t got use for that stuff.  I’m not interested in fighting anymore.”

Kuja’s eyes widened in surprise, before his expression changed into keen interest.  “Understandable.”

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Cloud hadn’t seen anyone in months, unless he counted the odd manikin, which he didn’t.

“I’m just passing through,” said Kuja.  He was examining a ring from the bowl.  “Think of me as a weary traveller.”

Cloud poured him another cap of potion.  Kuja lifted it in salute and said, “To not fighting in this pointless war.”

Cloud nodded as Kuja drank, and felt a sudden overwhelming wave of relief.  All this time Cloud had been running from the fight, running from Sephiroth too, and it felt good to find a comrade who understood how he felt.

Kuja put the cap back on the bench, and made a point of looking around.  “Seems like most of your patrons are leaving.  Are you closing up soon?”

Cloud frowned, reluctant to let their little improvisation come to an end.  But it was Kuja who started it, and so it would be Kuja who ended it, it seemed.  “I knock off in five minutes,” said Cloud.

Kuja flicked his hair over one shoulder.  With the action Cloud caught a whiff of Kuja’s sweet scent.  “Invite me to your humble abode then, for a nightcap.”

Cloud examined him, unsure if he’d heard correctly.  Kuja was smirking, ever confident.  They were playing a game but what, exactly, were the rules?  Was Kuja… flirting with him, or… was it just friendship he was after, perhaps a place to relax and talk?  Cloud had always had difficulty sussing out people’s intentions, and today was no different.

But Cloud did agree to take Kuja back to his camp, which was only around the corner.  Kuja didn’t walk next to Cloud so much as _float_ effortlessly, wisps of magic hovering around him.

As they approached Cloud’s home, Cloud started to feel embarrassed at what he was about to show him.  Cloud hadn’t taken anyone to his camp before, and he had never intended to as he didn’t want anyone to know.  Fact was, he was hiding, but he felt tonight that he could trust Kuja with this secret.  It was just – his camp wasn’t anything fancy or nice, and it very much seemed that Kuja liked fancy and nice things.

When they arrived, Cloud pulled back the material flap that was the makeshift doorway, and looked at Kuja, feeling his cheeks heat.  “Welcome to my humble abode… I guess?”

Still holding Cloud’s pauldron in one arm, Kuja stepped into the room, sweeping his eyes over it.  Cloud stepped in with him but could not discern Kuja’s blasé expression.

Cloud’s little home was small, with a table he had scavenged in one corner, and a pallet bed with nothing but a blanket and a pillow he had made out of mixed materials in the other.  The war-torn world they lived in did not have much to work with, but what Cloud did find he tried to make use of.  He decorated the wall near the bed with artistic shards of glass and mirrors, while mobiles made of beads and orbs dangled from the ceiling above the table.

But what caught Kuja’s eye was Cloud’s map of the labyrinth on the far wall.  He put the pauldron on the table and went over to it.  “You made this?” He ran his fingers over the drawn rectangular rooms and their connecting lines.  He looked over his shoulder at Cloud.

Cloud nodded.  He leaned over Kuja and pointed at the line that lead to a dead end.  “I’ve mapped as far as the forty-fifth floor; beyond that, I don’t know how far the labyrinth goes.”

Kuja didn’t say anything.  He was looking over his shoulder at Cloud with lowered lashes, and Cloud belatedly realised he had pressed himself up against Kuja’s back.

Cheeks feeling hot, Cloud took a step back, but Kuja turned to face him and followed, stepping into Cloud’s personal space.  It could have been a threat – and Cloud knew Kuja was dangerous – but it didn’t feel like a threat, it felt like something else entirely.

Kuja looked at Cloud’s mouth, and then his eyes.  “Why don’t you,” said Kuja in a low voice, “give me the grand tour?”

“Uh…” said Cloud.

Kuja stared at him piercingly.  “Can’t you tell when someone is courting you?”  He glanced at the bed and back again.  “To start, why don’t you show me the bedroom.”

“…Actually,” said Cloud, stepping away a little, “I would rather show you this table.”  He put his hand on the flat surface.

Kuja narrowed his eyes, but played along: “It is a fine looking table, to be sure.”

“Yeah, uh.” Cloud cleared his throat.  “Do you want to sit on it?”

Kuja gave him a speculative look before gliding up and over, settling himself to sit on the table’s edge, legs crossed.

Cloud went over, pulling his gloves off as he went, and grabbed Kuja’s thighs where the bare skin met his hem of his boots, and spread his legs.  He leant in close, but didn’t close the distance between their mouths.  Kuja was looking at him wide-eyed with renewed respect, like he didn’t expect Cloud to be so forward.

Cloud could be forward, if he wanted to be.  “Are you enjoying the tour?” Cloud asked, as he maneuvered Kuja until their hips were pressed together.

Kuja slid his arms around Cloud’s neck.  “Very much so,” he answered, before leaning in for a deep kiss.

Cloud gathered him in his arms and ran his hands up Kuja’s flank, feeling the smooth, bare skin.  He unhooked the codpiece while Kuja rapidly yet decisively undid the button and zip on Cloud’s pants, before shoving them down his thighs.  And then they were gasping into each other’s mouths as they pressed their sex together, Kuja’s hands on Cloud’s ass to pull him in further, while Cloud ran his hand’s up Kuja’s back and under his jacket.

*

The next morning, Cloud awoke to find Kuja gone from his bed.  He looked over his shoulder and saw him at the table, back to him, as he worked on something.  He was wearing nothing but Cloud’s boxerbriefs, which were loose on him, hanging off his hips.  Cloud pressed his face to the pillow regardless, feeling hot all over.

Kuja must have heard him stir, because he looked over his shoulder, then came back to the bed, tail swishing, and crawled back under the blanket.

Last night, Kuja’s lavender-coloured tail that Cloud didn’t even know he had had appeared suddenly while Cloud had moved his hand down to touch Kuja’s hole.  Kuja had had to quickly explain to a shocked Cloud that often the magical glamour he had on the tail sometimes came off if his tail was ever touched accidentally.

Now it curled coyly over the blanket and rested there, like a sleepy cat.

They shared the pillow.  “What are you exactly?” asked Cloud.  “You have a tail like Zidane.”

“Zidane is my brother,” Kuja told him.  He pursed his lips.  “Well, he and I have many brothers and sisters.  Our father called us both angels of death.”

“He’s your brother…” Cloud mumbled.  There was so much about Kuja he hadn’t known.

“Our father was always emotionally absent.  When he made Zidane to replace me, I was jealous, so I threw Zidane to Gaia, hoping he’d die.”

He said it so matter-of-factly.  Cloud side-eyed him, this cold, lonely, beautiful creature.

“My world is also called Gaia,” said Cloud, latching onto something else.  Something that didn’t make him shiver, didn’t make him think that he had slept with the devil.

“My father’s name was Garland,” Kuja told him.  “He was an android.  I try not to think about the similarities between our worlds – the names, the language…”

“An artificial intelligence created you?” said Cloud.  “I knew an AI once, though he was often controlled by a person.  If he ever wanted to create anything, he’d probably just make mogs.  Moogles, I mean.”

Kuja rolled into him.  “I used to dine with kings and queens.  I would whisper poison into their ears, make them trust their enemies and make war with their friends.”  He looked up at Cloud, smile proud and cruel.  “And you?”

“I was a delivery guy,” Cloud told him.

Kuja spluttered, sitting up.  “I was an aristocrat who commanded armies and controlled royalty, and you- you-” He was angry with himself, it seemed.  “You were a _delivery boy_ \- !”

“I lived in the slums,” Cloud said, trying not to laugh.

Kuja touched his hand to his forehead like he was light-headed, and slumped back down onto the mattress.

Cloud rolled on top of him.  He shrugged one shoulder.  “I guess you’re out of my league.”

Kuja’s body curled up into him, even as he glared up at Cloud, pouting.  “And I suppose I’m ‘slumming it’, so to speak.”

Cloud smoothed a hand up Kuja’s thigh to finger at the waistband.  Cloud himself was naked, and it wasn’t fair that Kuja wasn’t.  Kuja arched up as he allowed him to slide the boxerbriefs down and away.

Kuja spread his legs and moaned softly.  “You should – “ They kissed.  “ – take me…”

Cloud shook his head.  They didn’t have penetrative sex last night, and he didn’t want to now.  “I don’t have any lube, it could hurt.”

“I’m not human, remember?”

“But I am,” said Cloud.  _I think_ , he thought but didn’t say.  “It will hurt me, too.”

Kuja sighed as Cloud kissed his throat and down his chest, inhaling his scent as he went.  He tongued his bellybutton then went down further, and further, until he had Kuja moaning loudly, biting his own fingers, and coming into Cloud’s mouth.

*

Later, it was goodbye.

They stood outside Cloud’s camp.  Kuja flicked his hair over one shoulder nervously, and Cloud unconsciously clenched his fists.

“I have to keep moving,” Kuja told him.  “You should too.  You shouldn’t be staying in one place if you are trying to avoid them.  It’s a wonder I’m the only one who has run into you.  So far.”

“Yeah,” said Cloud.  “But I might go back, see what’s happening.”

Kuja seemed disappointed in him.  “There’s nothing happening, I can guarantee that much.  All the Chaos warriors are just as controlling as ever.   If you go there, they will just try to use you, or bully you.  You’re almost better off chasing down Cosmos pawns and fighting them – at least they’re predicable.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Cloud reminded him.  “And our allies aren’t all that bad.  There’s Tidus, and Ultimecia – “

Kuja scoffed.  “Yes, the halfwit and the witch.  Goodbye, Cloud.”  And with that, he glided away.

Cloud watched him go with sadness and regret.  _We could have stayed together a little longer._

He went back inside his little home, now devoid of the brightness that Kuja had brought into it, fleeting as the moments were.   Cloud tidied his bed, then took the map from the wall and rolled it up.  After visiting the Chaos Shrine he would map more of the labyrinth.  It meant not coming back to this camp for a while.

He felt a presence in the room with him…

He turned and saw _Her_ standing next to the doorway.  She looked at him with sadness and disappointment.

Cloud sighed.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

As usual, she didn’t answer.

“Is it because I slept with him?”

This time she gave him a look that said _Oh please, don’t insult me._

“Okay, so if you’re alright with Kuja, then it must disapproval of me going back.”

 _Bingo!_ her eyes and expression seemed to say.

“I have to go back eventually,” he told her.

She looked at him disappointedly again.  Then, she lifted one arm and pointed to the table.

Cloud went over, but there was nothing on the table except the pauldron he’d used as a pretend bowl for his pretend peanuts.  He snorted at the memory. 

He peered at it.  His little trinkets were still inside.   But then he realised, as he slowly pulled one out, that all the small accessories had been linked together, like a necklace, and its centrepiece was a small, purple feather.

“Kuja must have made this while I was asleep.  Is this what you wanted to show me - ?”

He turned to Aerith, but she was gone.

Cloud pulled the necklace over his head and collar, and adjusted it so it sat neatly.  He held it for a moment, thinking.

He didn’t know what Kuja wanted, or expected.  He didn’t know what he himself wanted… no.  That wasn’t right.

He knew what he wanted.  He wanted Kuja to stay, to be permanent.  And he knew, on some level, that Kuja had been looking for a one-night stand.  Or so it had seemed.

He didn’t know.  He just… he didn’t know.  He never knew; he had never been good at discerning people’s emotions.

Cloud exited the camp, and didn’t look back.

*

He had walked half a day before he encountered voices.

Cloud stayed behind a pillar and listened.  It was Garland, Exdeath, Kefka and Sephiroth, and they seemed to be on the verge of arguing.

“You’re more eligible than the rest of us,” Exdeath told Garland.  Sephiroth crossed his arms and Kefka put his hands to his mouth and gasped over-dramatically.

“My path has been written; it is not my destiny to succumb to the Great Will.”  Although Cloud could not see his face through his armour, he could tell that Garland was angry, and that Exdeath had over-stepped.

“Give the Great Will that annoying Blitzball player,” said Kefka, with an offhand gesture.  “Nothing of value will be lost.”

Cloud frowned.

“Tidus is a dream and not eligible to be a sacrifice,” said Garland, sounding impatient.  “Not many in this world are.”

“Kuja, then,” Kefka suggested.  “He is a genome, a creature created to be a vessel for a soul.”

Something leaden and cold went through Cloud at Kefka’s words.

Sephiroth side-eyed him.  “How do you know this?”

Kefka spread his hands, chuckling.  “It’s important to know things about your _friends_.”

Cloud tucked the necklace under his shirt collar and strode out into the open.  They all turned to look at him.  Cloud was especially wary of Septhiroth who watched him piercingly.

“You have returned to me,” said Sephiroth.  He turned to Kefka and raised an eyebrow.  “You see?  I do not need constant displays of control as you do; my puppet will always come back.”

“Oh really?” Kefka tilted his head.  “This one has been gone _a year_.”

Sephiroth placed a hand on Cloud’s shoulder; Cloud let him, for now.  “What are you all talking about?” Cloud asked.

“Your accent is so grating,” Kefka muttered at the same time Exdeath said, “Our god, known to you as the Great Will, has asked Chaos by extension his warriors to find him a body to inhabit.  But it cannot be just any body; it needs to be one created for that purpose, such as a manikin.”

“There are manikins slowly leaking from the Rift,” said Cloud, mentally noting that there was apparently _another_ god they had to serve now.  Great.  “Can’t he just take one of those?”

“Weaklings,” said Garland, dismissive.  He added to all of them, “We shall give our god Kuja, as Kefka suggested.”

“Wait,” said Cloud, stepping forward towards Garland and away from Sephiroth’s grasp.  He took a deep breath – he was about to do something incredibly stupid but he had to save Kuja…

Cloud remembered the feel of Kuja’s long hair flowing through his fingers, of the way he smiled into a kiss, the way he arched into him while Cloud smoothed a hand down his back.

He felt the feather of his necklace pressed against his chest.

Cloud looked right at Garland and said, “Sacrifice me instead.”

“No,” said Sephiroth, from behind.

Cloud ignored him.  Garland was watching Cloud closely.  “I’m a clone,” Cloud explained. “I was... created… to become a puppet that would accept Sephiroth’s Will.”

“Be silent, Cloud,” Sephiroth growled.

“No, no, let the puppet speak,” said Kefka, amused.  “Seems he has a mind of his own after all.”

“Why don’t you sacrifice your girl instead,” Sephiroth shot back, voice like ice.

“There’s no way,” Kefka gritted out, anger visibly bubbling to the surface, sudden and hot.  “She is half Esper; too strong for even the gods themselves.  Too strong for you!”

“I’m right here, offering myself,” Cloud told Garland lowly.  “Kuja isn’t even here.”

“A noble sacrifice,” Garland conceded, but Sephiroth grabbed Cloud by the shoulder and turned him to face him.

“You cannot give yourself over to someone,” said Sephiroth, “when you belong to me.”

“My body is my own,” Cloud argued, face heating.  “What I do with it is up to me and me alone.”

“You’re wrong,” said Sephiroth, voice like silk.  He leaned in close.  “Your body, your soul, has _always_ been mine.”

“I will not have two allies arguing,” said Garland.  Exdeath was still standing to the side, observing.  “We will find and capture Kuja, and be done with it.”

They all seemed happy with this, about to move away, like the meeting was over.  “Wait,” said Cloud, desperate.

They ignored him.

“Kuja has a brother,” said Cloud.

Garland looked at him.  “Go on.”

“Another genome named Zidane.  On Cosmos’s side.”

Cloud could feel Sephiroth and Kefka’s eyes upon him.  Garland and Exdeath exchanged glances.

“It is possible,” said Garland.  “But we do not know where this Zidane is.”

“But you don’t know where Kuja is, do you,” said Cloud.  “I can find Zidane; I have a plan.  Let me do this, and then you will have no need to sacrifice one of our own.”

Garland nodded.  “Do what you must.”

Cloud nodded back.  He ignored Sephiroth, instead turning to Kefka.  “I’m going to need Terra’s help.”

“Forget it,” the clown growled.

“Give him what he needs,” said Garland.

Kefka snarled.  Cloud turned to Exdeath.  “You have the power to summon almost anything from the Void?”

“Correct,” said Exdeath, slowly.  “You want something?”

Cloud ran a hand through his hair.  “If I do this, I want a reward.  A specific item.”

Exdeath crossed his arms.  “So long as it is within my power.”

“Understood,” said Cloud.

*

Squall saw him just before Zidane yelled in triumph and pranced around Bartz like an idiot.  “I won!” Zidane sing-songed. “I won!  I won!”

“Well yeah,” said Bartz, “Only took three losses.  Squall!  You want a turn?”

Bartz and Zidane had been playing noughts and crosses in the sand of the beach while Squall stood to the side.  Squall frowned at Bartz.  “We’ve got company.”

A few yards away, a tall man with sharp eyes and flamboyant, dark attire stood on the tall wall connecting the nearest gate.  He held a sceptre outwardly, and watched, head held high, as Squall, Bartz and Zidane walked towards him.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Squall shouted up at him.

The man narrowed his eyes.  “What tiny insect, this slithering slug… how dare he even posit, even have the fleeting thought, that he could speak to _me_ , and in such a manner, no less?”

“What?” said Zidane, cocking his head, at the same time Bartz muttered, “Oh jeez, one of _those._ ”

Then from far away, through the open gate, Squall heard a timid cry.

A girl rounded the corner of a tall hill; and then Zidane was dashing off towards her before Squall could even register that she was limping and crying out for help.  _“Please help me!_ ” she cried.  _“Please, he’s coming after me - !_ ”

Squall and Bartz went to follow – only for the gate to come down with a loud _BANG!_ right in front of their faces.

“The way is closed,” drawled the guy with the sceptre.

Squall looked at him, then through the gate at the girl – who was running _away_ from them now – to Zidane, who was following her, and then he exchanged glances with Bartz.

“Fuck,” said Squall.

The girl and Zidane disappeared around the hill.

“We gotta go,” said Bartz.

“Yeah, no shit,” said Squall, who was already moving past the gate and to a part of the wall that looked easy enough to dash up.

The guy with the sceptre was moving, casting spells, throwing mines and traps on the other side of the gate.  Squall grabbed Bartz’s arm as he came up beside him at the top of the cliff, wind whipping their hair into their eyes.  “We can’t dash after Zidane – the whole valley is full of mines.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” said Bartz, “I can see that.  I just can’t believe… Zidane… he fell into such an obvious trap!”

 _I can believe it_ , Squall thought but didn’t say.  “We’re going to have to walk across, carefully.  I’ll lower you down first.”

“I hope we get there in time,” Bartz agreed, as he allowed Squall to hold his hand and help him get over the cliff and onto the nearest ledge.  He looked over his shoulder and shuddered.  “Did I ever tell you I’m kind of scared of heights?”

“Many times,” Squall drawled.  “Just don’t look down.  Look at me instead, if it helps.”

Bartz smiled at him shakily.  They picked their way down the wall, then walked gingerly past mines and traps set out by the annoying asshole who still stood near the gate.  “Run amuck!” he shouted after them, casting a large ball of fire to slowly follow.

They finally made it outside the range of traps – even after Squall had to pull Bartz from one that sent bolts of lightning up and around both of them – and then they were running and dashing as fast as they could –

Squall rounded the hill and saw Zidane and a soldier with blonde, spikey hair fighting, while off to the side the girl and Exdeath stood near an open portal.

Squall shouted Zidane’s name, which he regretted instantly when Zidane looked towards the noise, and the soldier took advantage of his distraction to swipe down with his large sword, making Zidane stumble backwards into the portal to the Void.

“Go,” the soldier said to the girl, who leaped after Zidane.  The portal closed behind her.

Many things happened in a very short amount of time:

Exdeath teleported and then reappeared, ramming himself into Bartz –

The soldier dashed at Squall and performed a spinning attack.  Squall dodged – if the attack had hit, Squall would have had no head –

Squall and the soldier fought.  Their blades clashed, shards of light glancing off and shooting away –

There was a moment when Squall got close and caught the soldier’s dead-eyed gaze.  His eyes were blue, but they were also green – the kind of bright, artificial green that suggested poison or acid or evil –

Squall slashed at him.  Though Squall kept missing, he was still able to drive the soldier back.  “Why did you take Zidane!” he demanded.

There was a quiet moment where for just a second the soldier looked regretful.  “The things we do for love, I guess,” he said, his voice deep but his accent surprisingly country.

They dashed away from each other.  The soldier threw fire magic which Squall blocked, then countered with a rain of bullets from his gunblade.  The soldier planted his huge sword in the ground and hid behind it, blocking all of Squall’s bullets.  Then the soldier pulled the sword from the ground, spun it around his head and shouted, “Stars, rain down - !”

Squall heard the whizzing sound of the meteor shower before the fiery rocks landed on the hills and ground, and splashed into the ocean nearby.  He heard Bartz yell as he dodged.

“Exdeath, we’re leaving!” the blonde soldier shouted as he ran towards his ally.

“As you wish,” said Exdeath, before opening a portal.  The two Chaos warriors went through, and the portal closed behind them, and then they were gone.

Squall dodged two more meteors before they finally died down.  Bartz ran over to him, breathing heavily from his fight.

Bartz grabbed his arm.  “They kidnapped Zidane!”

“I know.” Squall was furious.  “Don’t worry too much; he can take care of himself.”

“Who _was_ that guy?  Why did he take Zidane?”

“’The things we do for love,’” Squall quoted.

Bartz looked at him.  “What?”

“It’s just something he said.  Don’t ask me what it means.”

Bartz spread his hands out in cluelessness and frustration.  “He kidnapped Zidane for love?”  He shook his head.  “Exdeath…” Bartz looked into the distance, where the portal last was.

“What about him?”

Bartz’s eyes narrowed.  “Exdeath is… powerful.  And seriously up himself,” Bartz added with a snort.  “But the way he acted around that blonde guy… it was like, Exdeath _respected_ him.”

“That soldier I fought…” Squall started, “he was really strong, and had some long-range magic up his sleeve.  But he’s slower than I am; he just makes up for it with tactics.  So next time,” Squall promised, knowing there _had_ to be a next time, “I will be prepared, and I will defeat him.”

“Yeah!” Bartz gave a fist pump, resolute.  “And we’ll get Zidane back!”

Squall was looking out over the river, thinking, planning… He hadn’t realised Bartz had moved into his space, and was looking at Squall closely, breath warm and feather-like on Squall’s neck.

Bartz put two fingers to Squall’s chin and Squall looked into his eyes, then down to his mouth.  It seemed an incongruous moment after battle, but at the same time it wasn’t because Squall’s veins were pumping hot, and he could smell the heady salt of Bartz’s sweat, and Squall was aware that they were alone –

Bartz tilted Squall’s chin up and leaned forward to inspect Squall’s neck closely.  “You’re bleeding.”

Squall scowled.  “What?  No I’m not.”

Bartz pulled away and ripped a strip of material from one of the sashes he wore.  Then he pressed the material to Squall’s neck.  “You’re bleeding all over the place.”

Their hands brushed as Squall took the material from him to hold in place himself.  “An exaggeration,” he grumbled.

Bartz sighed.  “We have to find him.  We’re going to find him, aren’t we?”

“There’s only really one place they would have taken him,” said Squall, “so there’s only one direction we will go.”

*

Emperor Mateus confronted Cloud upon his arrival.  “You have done well, peon.”

Cloud rolled his eyes.  “Thanks.  Where’s Zidane?”

“The genome is being prepared for possession.  The sacrificial ceremony will begin shortly at the Chaos Shrine; you should make haste if you desire to view the forthcoming entertainment.”

“Sure, I’ll meet you there,” Cloud lied, then waited for the emperor to leave before turning to Exdeath.

“Name your reward,” said Exdeath.

Guilt settled heavy on Cloud’s bones, making him grit his teeth.  He didn’t think a reward for what he had done was appropriate, particularly the kind of reward he wanted to ask for.  “Forget it,” he said.

“I do not give out favours lightly,” Exdeath warned.  “You may not get this chance again.”

Cloud had been turning to go, but at Exdeath’s words he paused and looked at him over his shoulder, too embarrassed to show Exdeath his face.  “Okay.  I need some water based lubricant.”

There was a long pause.  Then Exdeath said, “Your sword will rust; an oil based lubricant should be sufficient.”

“I don’t want it for my sword,” Cloud told him, looking away.  “You’ve been around a long time; I’m sure you can guess what it’s for.”

Another pregnant pause.  “I was under the impression your relationship with Sephiroth was unrequited.”

Irritated, Cloud ran a hand through his hair and finally turned to look at Exdeath properly.  Irritation, it seemed, was strong enough to chase away embarrassment.  “Sephiroth and I are _not_ in a relationship; we will _never_ be in a relationship.”

“It matters not to me,” said Exdeath, and Cloud sensed embarrassment from him, too.  “I will get you want you require, in time.”

“Thank you,” Cloud exhaled, relieved.

*

He travelled back to the labyrinth and away from the Chaos Shrine and its surrounding territories.  He felt regret at having not met up with Tidus or Ultimecia, but going back for even those four days had been enough.

He tracked another floor of the labyrinth, taking his time, going through the motions yet distracting himself from his leaden guilt.  He eventually built up the courage to go back to his lonely camp; he was reluctant now, because it had been inhabited by Kuja, if only briefly, but that had been enough to feel like the camp was _theirs_ and not just his.

Cloud moved the material aside and stepped in.  He went over to the wall and pinned the map there once again.  Then he turned –

Kuja was sleeping in his bed.

He was curled around Cloud’s pillow, long hair a wild, tangled mess around him.

Trying not to wake him, Cloud slowly climbed in and curled himself around him, Kuja’s back pressed to Cloud’s front.

When Cloud next awoke, Kuja was already awake and looking at him.  Cloud looked away.  “I've done a bad thing – “

Kuja shushed him and got on top, hair flowing down like a curtain hiding them from the world. “I didn't think you'd come back.”

Cloud examined his face. Kuja was smiling slightly. “But...” said cloud, “you're here.”

“Yes,” said Kuja, and kissed him, slow.

Later, Cloud heard his name being called from outside.  It was probably Hanly, or one of the other moogles who lived in the labyrinth.  Cloud quickly dressed and went to the curtained door, pulling it aside.

“Good morning, kupo.  You've got mail!” Hanly floated in front of him, swinging from side to side in excitement.

Cloud thanked him as he accepted the golden envelope. Kuja appeared at his side, and accepted his own letter.

Hanly watched avidly while they opened them and Kuja read it aloud:

“’Dear Warrior of Darkness,

‘I, Cid of the Lufaine, also known as The Great Will, hereby invite you to my coronation, to be held tomorrow evening in Chaos’s Great Hall.

‘All our dreams will come to pass.’  And there's a signature at the bottom.”

Cloud stared at the crisp, elegant letter, a feeling of foreboding sinking in his gut.  Hanly said, “Very ominous, kupo.”

“Indeed,” said Kuja.  “What kind of God decides to be a king instead?  Did he get bored on that nice fluffy cloud of his?”

Hanly shrugged his little shoulders.  “You want to make any purchases while I'm here, kupo?”

“Not for me, Hanly, not today,” said Cloud.  He knew Hanly only took Kupo Points, and Cloud had spent all of his on utilising the Mognet to find Zidane.

Kuja bought a potion, while Cloud went back inside and considered what to take with them and what to leave behind.

Kuja came back inside after bidding Hanly farewell.  “I suppose we have to go,” he sighed.

Cloud rubbed a hand through his hair.  “We may not have a choice,” he agreed.  “I don’t think we’ll be back here for some time.”

“No,” said Kuja, a hint of sadness coming though in his voice.

They had to travel on foot half a day.  Cloud was nervous about making small talk with Kuja, but it turned out Kuja was very good at getting Cloud out of his shell, and conversation flowed easily between them.

“…And you lived in the slums,” clarified Kuja, a few hours in to their travels.  “Must have been awful.”

“I don’t remember much of that life,” Cloud admitted, “but I think it was okay.  People looked after each other and no one really judged you.  I mean, yeah, you’d often get your stuff stolen, but I had started to gain a reputation for being strong so I think people trusted me to deliver their packages safely.”

“You are very strong,” Kuja drawled, throwing Cloud a leer.

Cloud smirked at him briefly.  Then he said, “All I ever wanted was to be a Soldier First Class.  A hero like Sephiroth.  I was so stupid,” he added quietly, almost to himself.

Cloud walked through ruins of an old castle while beside him Kuja just floated, his magic carrying him effortlessly along.  How powerful Kuja must be, Cloud marvelled, to be able to have that kind of control.  Granted, Cloud’s mana allowed him to cast powerful spells, but they never lasted; they only burst into life before fizzling out after about a minute.

Cloud continued, “I didn’t exactly get my dream in the end, but I still became as strong as a Frist Class, if not stronger.  It’s funny: you want something so bad, but then when you get it, you can’t just – you know – retire, sit on the couch and watch TV for the rest of your days.  You have to take the thing you gained and use it, and hope that you’re using it for good.  For the right reasons.”

Kuja’s eyebrows shot up.  “Like being a hero and saving world?” he said sarcastically.

“Like being yourself and saving the planet,” Cloud told him seriously.

“What’s the difference?”

“Saving the world implies you’re saving the people living on it.”

They looked at each other.  “You wanted to help the planet even at the expense of human lives,” Kuja summarised, “and I wanted to save the Terrans at the expense of Gaian lives.”

Cloud shrugged.  “Guess we’re the same then.”

“No.  I am a warmonger, you are a terrorist,” said Kuja.

“Sounds like the same thing to me,” Cloud grumbled, “except you’re rich and I’m poor.”

Kuja snorted, amused.  “You wanted to be strong,” he said, steering the conversation away from politics, “and I wanted immortality.  I despised even the very concept of death.  And yet, my anger had lead me to wish death upon everyone else.

“It’s remarkable how sometimes you want something so badly, and then when you get it, you hate it.  Look at us – “ he swung his arms out wide – “we’re all immortal, and it is Hell.  We have to fight, but we can’t die.  We just exist here, in this broken world.”

“Immortality is a kind of prison, I guess,” Cloud agreed.  “Death is frightening but it is also a door, or door you can only pass through once, but opening that door _can_ be your choice.”

“And immortality means taking that choice away,” said Kuja sadly.   “And then you’re trapped here with no way out.  Yes, a prison.”

As the sun was setting, they finally reached Chaos’s castle.  With great reluctance, Cloud and Kuja entered, and met first with Tidus and Ultimecia.

“Dude!” shouted Tidus, giving Cloud a good, hard hug.  He pushed him away but kept him arm-length, looking him up and down.  “Sephiroth wouldn’t shut up about how you came back but Ulti and I never saw you!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Cloud, running a hand through his hair.  “I couldn’t stay.”

Ultimecia nodded to Cloud and Kuja in greeting, arms crossed, which Kuja returned.  “So what is happening with this weird invite, huh?” Tidus continued.  “Very _mysterious_.”

“Couldn’t say,” Cloud mumbled.

“Perhaps we should all move into the Great Hall,” said Ultimecia.  “The coronation will start in time.”

The hall was long, dark, gothic and led straight to the entrance to Chaos’s Shrine. It seemed that the four friends were the last to arrive.  Exdeath, Golbez and Garland stood near the foot of the stairs, conversing; Golbez turned to them and gave Kuja a nod, who inclined his head in return.

 _Right,_ thought Cloud, _they're friends_.

Sephiroth was standing with Kefka.  He gestured Cloud over, and he and his friends came to stand near them, wary.  “You’ve returned,” stated Sephiroth.

“I guess so,” Cloud mumbled.  

“Unsurprising,” said Kefka silkily, with a little giggle, “that the two of you should arrive together.”  He meant Cloud and Kuja, not Tidus and Ultimecia, who were standing behind them a little ways.  Sephirith looked at Kefka, then at Cloud, eyes sharp, and Cloud felt a dawning sense of dread.

Kefka was still talking.  “Did you try to sacrifice yourself for Kuja because you _love_ him?” Cloud could feel Kuja’s curious gaze, but Cloud couldn't look at him.  Kefka peered at Sephiroth and his narrow-eyed expression and gasped in over-dramatic horror.  “Did you not _know,_ Sephy?  Did you not figure out that Cloud tried to save Kuja’s life because they are – what is the right word – _lovers_?  Is that too old fashioned of me?  Oh I don’t know what you kids are calling it these days.  Perhaps I am wrong – “

Cloud was watching Sephiroth closely.

“ – Perhaps you are not lovers yet. Perhaps Cloud _wants_ to be, but it's unrequited, or they’re still courting each other, holding hands, running  through fields of flowers... no that's not it.  Oh no.  I can see by how close they are standing, by the way they had arrived, walking so close, they've found their happy ending.  Or should I say,  _end in -_ “

Cloud reacted by pushing Kuja behind him just as Sephiroth whipped out his sword with his left hand and grabbed Cloud around his neck in a headlock with his right, Kefka cackling all the while.  The tip of Sephiroth’s Masamune scratched the flesh of Kuja’s stomach, leaving a shallow, red welt.

Sephiroth had meant to impale Kuja through his middle, and he would have succeeded had Cloud not pushed him away in time.

Sephiroth’s lips brushed Cloud's ear.  “Seems I have allowed you too much freedom after all,” Sephiroth murmured.  “But thank you for showing me what you cherish; now I have the pleasure of taking it away.”

Cloud made a noise when he saw Kuja move closer, the Masamune making a dent in his stomach without penetrating the skin.   Cloud was scared for him, but Kuja was smirking.

“Don't even try anything,” Sephiroth warned him.

“Why would I do that?” drawled Kuja.  “I'm enjoying this moment immensely.  Watching as your world falls apart, as your heart breaks and crumbles into a million tiny shards...” His smirk widened.  “You’ve always tried to make Cloud yours and then I come along, take him in just a moment, and now he’s completely out of your reach...”

Cloud gasped as Sephiroth’s arm tightened around Cloud’s neck.

Kuja’s lips thinned.  “ _Proverbial_ reach.”  

Chaos was emerging from the arched entrance to his shrine, his large body and half unfurled wings imposing.  There was someone riding his shoulder. Kuja was distracted by this new arrival.

“I can’t kill you,” Sephiroth was saying, “but I can take away what you hold dear, turn him against you – “

“It won't work,” said Kuja with a dismissive wave of his hand.  His focus was no longer on Sephiroth or Cloud, but on –

“Zidane?” murmured Kuja in confusion.

Sephiroth’s grip on Cloud loosened and Cloud took the opportunity to step away from him.  Tidus grabbed Cloud’s arm gently and asked if he was okay, but Cloud was distracted by Kuja gliding slowly away from him and towards Chaos and Zidane, who was perched on Chaos’s massive shoulder.

Except it wasn’t Zidane, not really.

Cid of the Lufaine had possessed Zidane’s body, and now Zidane was almost unrecognisable in a new, dark suit, long blonde hair flowing over one shoulder, and eyes lined with kohl.  He still had a kind of cheeky expression about him, but his eyes were harder, older…. _madder_.

For a moment the hall was quiet.  Everyone watched as Chaos presented a golden circlet and placed it on Cid’s head.  “Behold!” Chaos boomed, voice like drums and gravel.  “Your new king – Cid of the Lufaine.  Bow down.”

Everyone except for Kuja lowered their heads – Garland even going so far as to get on one knee.  Cloud watched from under his fringe as Kuja glided up the stairs to the dais where Chaos stood.  Kuja called Zidane’s name again, and Cid floated from Chaos’s shoulder and to him.  They faced each other.

“Zidane,” Kuja implored, “what has happened to you?”

Cid spoke, touching Kuja’s face gently with his long dark fingernails.  “I am sorry, young thing,” he said, his voice deep and slow, “but I have taken over your brother’s body, and I have locked his mind away where you cannot reach him.”

Kuja looked desolate.  He grabbed Cid’s hand.  “Zidane.  If you can hear me, understand that I will find a way to get to you.  Please do not give up or give in.”

Cid gave him a look of patronising pity.  He put both his hands on Kuja’s cheeks.  “Look at you,” he said in wonder, “look at how beautiful you are.  You are a work of art.  Your creator must have been truly inspired the day he made you.”  One of his hands moved to the back of Kuja’s neck –

And then Kuja’s eyes were rolling back and he was falling –

Cloud called out his name and tried to run to him but was seized with a sudden intense pain that had him gasping and falling to his knees, clutching at his head.  He could hear Sephiroth laughing cruelly both in the hall and in his mind, while his brain felt like it was being crushed from the inside.

When the pain finally eased and Cloud could see and feel again, he found that Tidus and Ultimecia were on either side of him, keeping him steady.  Ultimecia cradled his head as it lolled.

Kuja was passed out in Golbez’s arms, lavender hair flowing down over his arm like a waterfall.

“Imprison him somewhere safe,” Cid was saying to Emperor Mateus.  The emperor led Golbez and his burden out of the hall.

“He’ll be alright,” Golbez told Cloud quietly as he passed.

“I hope,” Cid began, floating calmly and looking at each of them, “that you will all accept me into your hearts. We all have plans and predictions for the future; some of you believe that we can make this place better, that we will live here for eternity...”

Cid was speaking slowly and precisely yet it seemed with little substance, like a politician.  Cloud grunted a little as Tidus and Ultimecia tried to help him up.  But then Cloud yelled out as pain shot through his head.

“Stay on your knees,” said Sephiroth, “I prefer you there.”

“...as is my goal **_DO NOT SPEAK WHEN I AM SPEAKING!_** ”

Everyone froze.

Cid floated over to Sephiroth, who seemed both amused and unamused as he tracked Cid’s approach with hard, green eyes.  Cloud stayed on his knees and panted through the aftershocks of his migraine.

“Do not be confused, my friends,” Cid said quietly now, but no less dangerous, “that I will tolerate insolence. I had stolen the body of Kuja’s brother, and so I had allowed him a small amount of impertinence to go unchecked out of sympathy.  But understand that I will not do so again.”  He stopped in front of Cloud and lowered himself to his level. He touched two fingers to the underside of Cloud's chin and looked him straight in the eyes.  “I know what you did,” said Cid.  “I know you offered yourself to me, and I know when that failed, you gave me the body I now possess. I know you did it out of love for someone and not in reverence to me, but still I thank you.  Help him stand,” he added to Tidus and Ultimecia, who did just that.

“We should all follow Cloud Strife’s example,” he told the room at large as he slowly floated back to the dais.  “As I was saying, some of you believe we will all go home one day.  Some believe time here is irrelevant and we all will return to the Void.  Perhaps we will be stuck here for all eternity – who is right? Who is wrong?  Point is, we are all here together for quite some time.  So I propose – “ He made it to the dais, stood next to Chaos and turned, pausing for dramatic effect – “that we consider... world peace!”

The room was quiet.  Cloud and Tidus looked up.  Ultimecia tilted her head.  Kefka froze mid-yawn.  Everyone stared.

Chaos looked conflicted.  He leaned towards the small figure that was Cid and said lowly, almost whispering: “Father, Shinryu will not approve – “

“Shinryu is in the Void where he belongs, where he will _stay_ ,” Cid hissed, teeth bared, eyes blazing in utter anger.  Then his expression smoothed over as he looked back at his people placidly.  “First step to realising this dream is to make peace with each other here.  Many of you are already friends, but some of you are at war with each other even though you are on the same side.  For the next few weeks we’ll be working towards better harmony and a deeper understanding of our peers.  Eventually, once we are all confident in our community, we will take steps to make peace with those sided with Cosmos.  I know,” he added, when he noticed some of the uncomfortable expressions from some of Cloud’s allies, “that it won’t be easy, but I promise you, it can be done.”

 

*

Kuja was waking up.

He was in a cage made of lightning magic.  Cloud watched from afar and hidden behind a pillar as Kuja gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position before standing and facing Golbez and Ultimecia through the crackling, vivid bars.

He looked wan and defeated. Cloud swallowed down the lump in his throat, heart clenching at the thought of Kuja being hurt.

“Are you here to gloat?” Kuja asked his visitors.

“Far from it, my friend,” Golbez said sadly.  “Nevertheless, I am glad it was neither you nor I the Great Will chose to possess.”

“The tables have turned on this war,” Ultimecia mused, “and in such a short amount of time.”

“And yet,” drawled Kuja, eyes cold, “neither of you are helpful in any way.”

Tidus came up beside Cloud and touched his arm.  They stayed hidden in the shadows.  Tidus crossed his arms, lips upturned a little even though his eyes were serious.  “You want to know an interesting little titbit about prisons?”

Cloud side-eyed him.  “I don’t know, do I?”

“Sure you do.  So, like, magical prisons or traps or dungeons or whatever, they can’t just exist on their own; they need a power source.”

Cloud frowned.  “What like… mako?”

“I don’t what that is,” said Tidus.  “I was thinking more on the lines of a sphere.  A magical stone of some kind, which can stay in one place for a long time without degrading.  And it’s usually placed close by, like in the wall or the floor or even the ceiling.  If someone were to… look for something like that, I’m sure it wouldn’t take long for them to find if they knew what they were looking for.”

Cloud stared at Tidus.  Then he gave his friend a small nod.  “I’m going to need some time,” said Cloud.

“I’ll make sure nothing happens to him in the meantime,” Tidus promised.

*

Cloud had seen Kefka’s rooms once, all ostentatious and colourful, like the guy had found a cushion and throw rug sale and had gone mad with decorating.  Ultimecia’s room in Chaos’s castle was similar to the ones she had at her own castle: Victorian and classic, full of beautiful antiques of the highest quality.

Sephiroth’s room was the opposite.

It was bleak and unremarkable, with a desk against one wall and a bed against the other.  He had his own shower, though, which Cloud envied.  The whole place was rather small.

It reminded Cloud of the Shinra barracks.

Cloud let himself in.  Sephiroth stood from his desk chair and watched as Cloud ran his eyes all over the sparse room.  Another time, another place, this really could have been Shinra, and Cloud and Sephiroth could have been SOLDIER First Classes; allies, co-workers, comrades, friends… even lovers.  Once upon a time, Cloud would have loved to work under Sephiroth, in more ways than one.

But this wasn’t Gaia, it wasn’t Shinra, and despite his clothing Cloud had never been a SOLDIER First Class and he and Sephiroth had never been friends.

Cloud looked over one shoulder, trying to be coy.  “You know when I was a teenager,” he began, “living in a quiet little mountain town, I had this poster of you on my wall.”

Sephiroth inhaled sharply, tilting his head to the side.  His eyes never left Cloud’s face.

Cloud turned to face him proper.  “I wanted to be as strong as you.  I wanted to leave and go to Midgar and be your subordinate, work by your side.  But mostly I just wanted you.”

Sephiroth moved towards him, intent.

“At night I would look at that poster…” Cloud swallowed as Sephiroth cupped Cloud’s cheek and rubbed a gloved thumb over his bottom lip.  “I would look at that poster, and I would touch myself – “

Sephiroth kissed him hard.  Cloud pulled away almost as soon as it had started, and said, “Get on the bed.”

Sephiroth didn’t oblige at first, just took his time running a hand over Cloud’s face and through his hair.  Eventually, Sephiroth took off his jacket and lay down on the bed, and Cloud straddled him.

Then he summoned the Buster Sword and stabbed Sephiroth with it so hard the sword went through the mattress and hit the floor.  Blood splattered on the wall and Cloud’s face and Sephiroth shouted _“You fuck!_ ”

Cloud leaned down over him, eyes blazing.  “You think I would ever come to you willingly?” he hissed in Sephiroth’s face, now twisted in pain.  Sephiroth summoned his Masamune in his left hand but Cloud grabbed his wrist and slammed it down.   “I will _never_ love you, or come to you, or be yours, do you understand?  You attack my friends.  You torture me with your will.  And you murdered…” he looked to the side – _“her._ ”

Sephiroth looked to where Cloud was looking, and his eyes widened when they landed on Aerith.  “How?” he grunted.

Cloud got off him and went to stand beside her.  “Make sure he doesn’t die,” Cloud told her.  “I need him to stay in this room for as long as possible while Kuja and I escape.”

She nodded.

“I will come after you,” Sephiroth told Cloud dangerously as Cloud left.

 _I know you will_ , Cloud thought, but didn’t say.

*

Kuja still looked fatigued as Cloud approached the prison.  They were alone now.

Cloud traced his hand along the wall as Kuja watched him, eyes hooded.  “I’m getting you out of here,” Cloud told him, “and then we’re leaving.”

Kuja seemed disappointed.  “I can’t leave without Zidane,” he said.

Cloud dug his fingers in a crack in the wall and frowned.  “I don’t know how to save Zidane, I only know how to save you.”  He made the crack wider, wall crumbling away under his fingers.  “Do you know how to save him?”

Kuja hissed at him like a snake.  Cloud wasn’t looking at him, but he could imagine the flash of his eyes and his face twisting in anger.  Cloud dug his hand into the hole in the wall he had managed to make and pulled out a glowing pink orb.  The electric prison around Kuja dissipated with a splutter and a low hum.  Tidus had been right.

Cloud looked at Kuja, and he looked back, scowling.  Cloud dropped the orb with one hand and tried to grab Kuja with the other, but Kuja pulled away.  Incredibly, the gesture only made something inside Cloud soften more; Kuja was like a cat, curious and cautious, wanted to trust but finding it very difficult to do so.  Cloud said, “If you go to Cid of the Lufaine, and you fight him, then what?  Engaging Cid in battle may only strengthen him but weaken you and Zidane.”

“You think I don’t know that?” spat Kuja.

“Let’s go,” Cloud implored.  “If you hang around and they find you’ve escaped, they may imprison you again in something stronger.”  Cloud gently held Kuja’s hand.  Kuja let him, but didn’t hold his hand back.  “We can figure something out, plan something, get help from someone.”

Kuja seemed to deflate at that; he really did look tired.  He squeezed Cloud’s hand briefly before letting go and nodding.

So they ran away.

They fled for some time through the many floors of the labyrinth.  Eventually, they came to a glade encompassed by four high stone walls, and which had a sparkling blue stream that ran by a crop of trees.  “I need to stop here,” Kuja told him, already lowering himself to sit on a smooth rock.  There was only one magic ball circling him.

“Sephiroth may come after us soon,” said Cloud, not sitting with him.  “We should keep moving.”

Kuja sighed.  “He will not; we have been travelling for some time, and we are deep within the labyrinth.”  He ran a hand over his eyes.  “I remember when Zidane was born; he was so small.  Our father told me he would be making another genome, one better than I, and I loathed him then.  But then Zidane came out of the tubes… this little baby.  Crying and crying.  And when I held him in my arms he held onto my finger and ceased his wailing straight away.  I knew then that I couldn’t let him live how I had lived, with a father that wasn’t programmed to love.”

Cloud said, feeling like Kuja had punched him in the heart, “You told me you threw him to Gaia because you were jealous of him.”

Kuja shrugged one shoulder.  “It was a half-truth.”

Cloud took a deep breath.  “I have to tell you something.”

Kuja gave him a side-along look, eyebrow raised, and made a gesture that basically said, _Okay, get on with it._

Cloud took a deep breath.  “I’m the one who kidnapped Zidane.”

Kuja looked up at him, frowning.  Cloud kneeled in front of him and put a hand gently on the bare skin of Kuja’s thigh.  “Garland, Kefka, Exdeath and Sephiroth were talking about kidnapping you and sacrificing you to Cid.  Somehow Kefka knew you were a genome.  So I offered myself instead, since I’m a clone, according to Sephiroth, but Sephiroth and Garland wouldn’t allow it.  So I made a plan to capture Zidane instead, which I did.  Emperor Mateus took him – “

“How did you find Zidane?” said Kuja quietly.

“I asked Hanly to use the Mognet to find him.”

Kuja looked away.  “Very clever.”

“Kuja,” Cloud breathed, “I am so, so sorry.”

Kuja didn’t say anything at first.  Then he said quietly, still not looking at Cloud, “I need to be alone for a while.”

Cloud clenched his jaw and nodded.  Then he left.

One section of labyrinth over, he came across a moogle who introduced herself as Mardi.  “I could use a new sword,” Cloud told her.

“You’ve come to the right moogle, kupo,” she said, before a long set of weapons appeared before him, rotating slowly in the air.

Cloud stared at one he recognised.  “That’s the Ultima Weapon,” he breathed.  Then he remembered: “I don’t have much KP left.”

“No sweat, kupo, I also take gil and trinkets.” She eyed his necklace.  “Like that pretty thing around your neck.”

Cloud touched it gently, stroking a finger down the mauve feather.  Although he and Kuja were on the verge of breaking up, Cloud couldn’t part with it.  “It’s not for trade,” he said, giving the sword one last longing look.  “I have plenty of gil; anything else you can offer me?”

In the end Cloud chose the nail bat, and he swung it round until it disappeared into his inventory just as he walked back into the glade.  Kuja was lying on the grass now, taking a nap.  Cloud tried to shake him awake.

He wouldn’t.

He finally awoke when Cloud pulled him into his lap and said his name.  Kuja peered up at him through his long fringe.  “I forgive you,” Kuja mumbled.

Cloud caught his breath.  Kuja leaned his forehead on Cloud’s arm.  “Now it is time to forgive _yourself_ ," Kuja said, just as some of his hair parted from his neck…

There was a crystal thorn there, stuck in his flesh.  It had spidery lines coming from it, under the skin like an infection.  Cloud touched it –

Pain shot through his head and he pulled away –

“Kuja, there’s something – “

“I know.  Cid did something to me.  I don’t know if I’m long for this world – “

“Don’t say that.  Even if you die, you’ll respawn.”

“I feel like it might be different this time.”  Kuja turned in his arms so they were facing one another.  “I think perhaps… this is it…”

Cloud kissed him quickly.  “I love you,” Cloud told him as they pressed their foreheads together.

Kuja tried to say something, then couldn’t, clenching his eyes closed tightly.

And then he was glowing, the light from his skin growing brighter and brighter until Cloud couldn’t look and had to shield his eyes against it –

And just as suddenly it was gone, and Kuja’s eyes were wide.  He was breathing heavily, clutching his chest.  Cloud lifted Kuja’s hair up and away from his neck to check: the crystal thorn was gone.

“You – “ said Cloud.  “How did you – ?”

“I don’t know,” Kuja panted.  “I just thought that I loved you too, and then there was this light from within me, and suddenly I feel… I feel…”

“…Sick?”

“ _Incredible._ ”

Kuja kissed him hard, pushing him back onto the grass.  He unbuckled Cloud’s pauldron and pulled his shirt up over his head.  “Give me this.”

“I can’t,” said Cloud, even as he watching Kuja remove his own clothes.  “What I did – “

“I told you,” said Kuja impatiently, “I forgive you.  Do not let your sins get in the way of what I need.”  Then he got back on top of Cloud and they slid their mouth together, eyes closed against the daylight.  They got Cloud’s boots and pants off, and then Cloud was flipping them over so he was in between Kuja’s legs.

“I have something,” Cloud said, before summoning the item Exdeath had given him.

Kuja looked at it, then smirked, eyes smouldering.   “See?  You do get some things right.”

It seemed that with lubricant and a little preparation, Kuja could take Cloud’s cock within himself smoothly.  Kuja was noisy in bed, which Cloud already knew, but this was another level.  It was if Kuja needed sex in that moment to live, like his skin was on fire and Cloud’s mouth and hands on his skin were cool and soothing but never quite enough.  He was always wanting more and more of him.

More than an hour later, they lay on the grass, Kuja’s head pillowed on Cloud’s shoulder.

They talked about what to do next.  “We cannot go back.  We shall have to seek help from Cosmos.” Kuja sounded doubtful, which mirrored Cloud’s thoughts.

“None of the gods can be trusted,” said Cloud.  He shuffled a bit.  “Chaos mentioned something to Cid earlier, something about someone called Shinryu.”

“A legendary summon, if I’m not mistaken,” said Kuja.

“If we could get that summon materia…  It’s a long shot; we don’t even know where it could be.”

Cloud felt Kuja’s eyelashes flutter against his bare skin.  “Then we shall head towards Cosmos’s territory, and we’ll ask the moogles on the way if they know where we could purchase Shinryu’s summon stone.”

It was a plan, at least.


	2. Ritual in Light and Death

_Six weeks later._

Squall had this reoccurring nightmare:

Bartz was standing in front of him, smiling, even while the floor beneath him started to crumble away.  And then someone would step forward, and stab Bartz in the chest.

Sometimes that someone was the soldier who had kidnapped Zidane, sometimes it was a flying object thrown from behind Squall, and Squall couldn’t see who had thrown it…

And sometimes, the person stabbing Bartz was himself.

He awoke from said nightmare gasping for air before immediately looking for Bartz, who should have been sleeping next to him in the tent.  But he was gone.

With the residual panic still in his system, he burst from the tent and saw Bartz was far away and fighting the soldier who had caught Zidane.

Squall’s heart stopped.

To Bartz’s credit however, he was winning.  He was driving the soldier back further and further, chasing him with a wind spell and hitting him with projectiles.  Squall forced his breathing to go steady as it seemed that Bartz was actually _enjoying_ himself. Bartz threw out a lasso and caught the soldier, then went to swipe at him with the Buster sword.  The soldier managed to dodge but only just, his eyes wide with shock.  

“Where's Zidane!” Bartz shouted, attacking relentlessly.

From the other side, another person was dashing to the fight, presumably to assist the soldier.  _Oh no you don't,_ thought Squall, and he raced over to the newcomer and hit him with Fated Circle. Caught by surprise, the newcomer didn’t dodge quite in time, and his sheer sleeve caught on fire.

“No!” shouted the soldier, rushing over.  He shielded his friend with his body and glared at Squall with those poisonous eyes as the other one patted the fire on his sleeve down to smoke.  In a lower, pleading tone, the soldier said, “We should stop.”

“Where's Zidane!” Bartz shouted as he came over and attacked the soldier again. The soldier blocked with a bat full of nails.

“Stop!  Please...” said the soldier.  Bartz did stop when he heard the plea, and the soldier turned to his companion and cradled his arm gently.

The companion was a beautiful man with long flowing mauve hair.   “Don’t waste a potion on me; dare I be cliché enough to say, it is merely a flesh wound.” He looked a little shaky, from pain, fear or embarrassment, Squall didn't know.

The soldier produced a potion anyway, and the long haired man protested loudly as it was used in him.

“You kidnapped Zidane,” said Squall.  He pressed the tip of this gunblade to the soldier’s neck.  “Who are you?”

The soldier frowned at him and straightened, his friend's arm now healed. “My name is Cloud Strife, and this is Kuja, Zidane’s brother.”

Bartz gasped.

“You helped kidnap your own brother?” Squall growled at Kuja.

“Of course he didn't,” said Cloud, as Kuja gave them the side-eye.  “He had nothing to do with it.”

“Where's Zidane?  I won't ask again,” Bartz warned.

“Tell me where you got that sword,” Cloud bargained.

“Some girl gave it to me.”

Cloud seemed disturbed by this.  “A girl in a pink dress?”

Bartz nodded.  “Come to think of it, she didn't say much...”

Cloud and Kuja exchanged glances.  “Zidane is at Chaos’s Shrine,” said Cloud.

This made Squall frown.  “No he isn't, we went there. _No one_ is at Chaos’s Shrine.”

“What?” Cloud gasped at the same Kuja drawled, “That's impossible.  Everyone was there when we left. Granted, it was some weeks ago, but even if Cid left, others would have remained.”

Cloud stepped forward and looked at Squall, then Bartz.  “Look.  I kidnapped Zidane to save Kuja, and also because Cid of the Lufaine was demanding a body.  But aside from all that…” He shook his head.  “I made a mistake, and I’m truly sorry, and I’m trying to make it right.”

Squall stared at him in consideration; this confession was not what he was expecting.  “Who’s Cid of the Lufaine?” he said.

“One of the gods.”

“There’s more than two gods?” said Squall suspiciously.

Cloud shrugged one shoulder.  “Apparently there are four.  Cid of the Lufaine is supposed to be neutral, but he… went to Chaos and asked that his warriors sacrifice someone to him so that he would have a body to inhabit.”

“And that body…” said Squall, “is Zidane?”

The looks on Cloud and Kuja’s faces said it all.

“So Zidane was in trouble,” said Bartz, who was scowling, “and you two… what, ran away?”

“Tch!” said Kuja, and Cloud spat, “And what were we supposed to do?  They had imprisoned Kuja for protesting and one of the other warriors was trying to enslave me.  We haven’t got the power to save Zidane; if we fight Cid and lose, we get imprisoned or worse.  If we fight Cid and win, we run the risk of Zidane losing memories and therefore more of himself, which may make it even harder to get him back - !”

“You still should have stayed!” Bartz argued.  “Zidane needs allies around him more than ever now.”

“We’re no use to him like that – “

“He’s all alone!” Bartz shouted at Cloud, right into his face.  Bartz’s chin was quivering: he was angry, but perhaps also close to crying.  “He’s probably trapped inside his own mind while some strange person is doing who knows what to his body!”

“Stop,” said Kuja.

He was standing to the side, arms crossed, and there was anger in his eyes, but also anguish.  “Perhaps we do look like cowards to such _great_ heroes as yourselves,” he said quietly, flicking his hair over his shoulder with one graceful movement.  “But we have a mission of our own.  We intend to get help, and then come back for my brother once we have armed ourselves with the necessary tools.”  He looked at Bartz, then at Squall, imploring.  “Perhaps… perhaps you would consider taking us to Cosmos.”

Squall frowned.  “Take two Chaos warriors straight to Cosmos?  You’ve got to be joking.”

“Why should we trust you,” asked Bartz.

“And why should we trust _you?_ ” Kuja threw back.  He tilted his head.  “We could part ways, here and now.”

Squall examined him.  Cloud said to Bartz, hesitantly, “I think you can be trusted; _she_ gave you my sword for a reason.  We should consider helping each other.  Maybe together we can find a way.”

 _Except this is all your fault to begin with,_ Squall thought.  Bartz’s mouth twisted in hesitation, and then he grabbed Squall’s arm to pull him away.

“Stay here, ok?” Bartz told the Chaos warriors.  “We’re going to discuss it.”

They walked a safe distance away.  Kuja and Cloud were talking lowly together, bodies close, Cloud’s head bent towards Kuja.

Bartz gently grabbed Squall’s wrist to garner his attention.

“They’re hiding something,” said Squall, trying not to think about how warm and gentle Bartz’s fingers felt on his wrist.

“I think we should help them,” said Bartz, his eyes blazing, and Squall gave him an exasperated look.  “Hear me out.  We tell them we’ll escort them to Cosmos and then take them the long way back to Sanctuary.  In the meantime, we have to travel with them, camp with them and stuff, right?  So one night, we’ll pretend to go to sleep early, and then we’ll spy on them, see if they drop any information.”

Squall looked at Bartz with renewed respect.  “That’s actually very… clever of you.”

Bartz clicked his tongue at him.  “Heyyyy I can be clever sometimes!”

Squall gave him an unimpressed look.

They went back to Cloud and Kuja.  Bartz explained to them, “You’re the first Chaos warriors we’ve seen for quite a while and well – we think you’re right, we perhaps can learn things from each other.  So Squall and I will take you to see Cosmos.”

Kuja inclined his head in thanks.  “Hopefully she will know a way to help Zidane.”

“She will!  She definitely will,” said Bartz.

*

Cloud and Kuja followed them two steps behind, and truth be told, it was a little awkward.

Not long into their trip,  Bartz turned to them, walking backwards, and said,  “I just realised we never introduced ourselves. I'm –“

“Bartz Klauser and Squall Leonhart,” Cloud cut in, “we know.”

“What the – How? We've never met!”

“We must have met in a previous Cycle, and I remembered your names and faces.”

Squall looked at him.  “’Cycle’?”

“When war ends it also begins,” said Kuja quietly, “and death passes you by as if he does not wish to know you.  And so we miss it like an old friend, and eternity folds her trickster hands around us.”

“What?” said Bartz. Squall felt a headache coming on and rubbed his temples.

“We're at war,” said Cloud.  “What do you think happens when one of us wins?”

“We... go home?” Bartz guessed.

Squall’s heart plummeted when Cloud shook his head.  Cloud said, “Our memories are erased, and we start all over again.”

Squall didn't know whether to believe him. But later, they seemed to have stumbled across evidence when they stopped to check their maps.

Squall and Bartz had been using an old map they'd bought from a moogle residing near Sanctuary.  Cloud had a map of the labyrinth they were currently walking the tunnels of, and Squall was surprised to see how deep underground they'd gotten. Squall and Cloud placed their maps side by side on a bench; this way they could roughly work out how far they'd come.

“Pretty impressive,” Squall conceded of Cloud's cartography.

“Likewise,” said Cloud.

Squall side-eyed him in confusion.  “This map is very old; I didn’t draw this.”

“But it has your initials on it?” said Cloud, lifting a corner of the map and peering at it closely.  He rubbed a thumb over it.  “ZT, BK and S… what I think is an L, but it’s pretty faded.”

Squall took it from him, trying to be gentle so as not to tear it.  He peered closely himself, but could only see series of very faded marks. 

“Here,” said Kuja, summoning a magical light in his hand and holding it up to the map.  “Cloud’s bright mako eyes detect subtle layers, but mine own light shines brighter still.”

Squall could see his and his two friends’ initials clearly now, right in the bottom corner.  Bartz pressed up against his back to look over his shoulder, and Squall swallowed, suddenly forgetting all about where they were and where they were going what they were even looking at because Bartz was warm and pressed against him –

“Jeez,” Bartz breathed against Squall’s neck, “those initials are _ours_.”

“Yeah,” Squall croaked, before clearing his throat.

Bartz pulled away and Squall could breathe again.  “How is that possible?” Bartz asked Cloud.  “I don’t remember making this map.”

“You must have made it in a previous Cycle,” Cloud surmised.  “A very early one, judging by the map’s age.”

Bartz gently grabbed Squall’s arm and they looked at each other.  “We were friends before.  All three of us.  We must just… find each other again.”

“Residual memories…” Kuja wondered aloud.  “Seems all is not lost at the end.”

*

Later, they made camp.  Like Squall and Bartz, Cloud and Kuja had one tent for the two of them.  The four warriors found a glade whose moon shone cold light upon them, and they set up their tents a little ways from each other, Cloud having built a fire between them.

Things seemed a little awkward again, until Kuja floated over to Bartz’s side and said he liked his eyeshadow, then summoned an eyeshadow pallet of his own.

“Oooh I love this colour!” said Bartz as Kuja smirked proudly, and Squall rolled his eyes and moved over to sit next to Cloud, instead.

If it were true that Kuja really did not know anything about Zidane’s kidnapping, and had even tried to help Zidane, then Squall had no problem with the older brother.  Cloud on the other hand…

It would take quite a bit of time for Squall to trust Cloud, if he even ever could.  But he could see something genuine there in Cloud’s behaviour, and in his body language when it came to Kuja: the way he hovered over Kuja, was protective of him, even though it was obvious to Squall that Kuja was a powerful mage and didn’t necessarily need protecting in most circumstances.

“I’ve been thinking,” Squall drawled.  Cloud made a ‘Hm?’ noise in response, but continued to look at the fire.  Squall explained, “The difference between Cosmos warriors and Chaos warriors, heroes and villains: a hero would sacrifice himself to save the world, and a villain would sacrifice the world to save one life.”

Cloud frowned into the fire.  “If you put it that way, then the only real difference between a hero and a villain is circumstance.”

“I don’t agree.”

Cloud looked at him with lips pressed into a hard line.  “I know what I did was wrong.  But everyone has a limit – “

“Most of us need to be pushed _extremely_ far to reach that limit – “

“I get that some people are just giant assholes,” said Cloud angrily, “but you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same had you been in my place.”

“I would have sacrificed myself,” Squall argued.

“I _tried._   And you are human and strong-willed; Cid would not have accepted you.” Cloud turned to face Squall properly, then said lowly, “Imagine there’s a powerful god, _your_ god, and he has demanded a sacrifice.  But it can’t be just anyone: you can only choose between Bartz – “ he gestured at Bartz, who was having a heated discussion with Kuja about fashion -  “and some guy you have never met, who also happens to be your enemy.”

Squall looked at Bartz from the corner of his eye.  He was smiling and talking, his hands moving as they always did when he was explaining something.  Squall did imagine it, and then felt cold despite the fire.

“I would find another way,” he said, though his voice was quiet and he didn’t entirely believe his own words.

Neither did Cloud.  “That would be fine, except the god and his peers aren’t giving you time to come up with another plan.  So with the one second that you have to choose, you choose your enemy, because if the choice is made for you, Bartz is taken.”  Cloud exhaled slowly and looked at the fire again.  “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t do anything for your friend.”

 _There are always other choices, you just can’t see them at the time_ , Squall thought, but didn’t say.  He didn’t want to argue about it further because Cloud was right but he was also wrong, and he couldn’t know for sure what he would do in any situation until he had lived it himself.

Especially when it came to Bartz.

Bartz was saying to Kuja, “You know I can’t understand you, like, fifty percent of the time, right?”

“Lies,” said Kuja; “the percentage is in the eighties range.  But you will improve, of that I am sure.”

Bartz caught Squall’s eye, gave him a subtle nod, then performed a not-so-subtle yawn.  “Ahhhhh I’m tired!  I’m going to go to bed.”

Squall sighed.  “Yes,” he said deadpan, “I am also tired.”

They said their goodnights and went to the tent.  Just as Bartz had predicted, it wasn’t long before Cloud and Kuja walked away from camp to have a private conversation.  Squall and Bartz snuck out of their tent and crept closer, hiding themselves just within hearing distance from behind a thick set of shrubs.

Kuja was running a hand through is long hair.  “…perhaps he’s right,” he was saying to Cloud in agitation, “perhaps I should have stayed with him, pretended to be appeased, worked my way through the ranks of Chaos’s pawns until I had come across an opportunity to save Zidane.  I could have done it; politics is my forte.”

“ _Magic_ is your forte,” Cloud told him, “and I wouldn’t have just left you there.  You heard what Cid said to you; he was satisfied with Zidane, but it was you he really wanted.”  Kuja turned away from him, mouth curved down in a sad line, and Cloud ran a hand through his blonde hair in agitation.  “I mean, Bartz made a good point: that perhaps Zidane would feel better with you there by his side even if he couldn’t express it.  But how long would it have taken you to find a solution?  And even if you had a plan, you would only have had one shot, and if you blew it – god, I don’t know.  Golbez, Tidus and Ultimecia are there – “

Squall’s hand tightened on his gunblade at hearing Ultimecia’s name.

“…they’ll look out for him,” Cloud finished.

 _Cloud is friends with Ultimecia?_ Squall thought, adding that fact to the long list of reasons not to trust him.

“…Perhaps our quest is the best option, given the circumstances,” Kuja conceded, glancing at Cloud over his shoulder.  “And yet I… do not trust Cosmos.  The gods’ selfishness and disregard for their subjects has become especially apparent these months past.”  He sighed and turned to Cloud.  “We _have_ to save him, Cloud; Zidane is the only person who has ever truly cared for me.”

Cloud deflated, looking at Kuja imploringly.  “ _I_ care about you.”  And all in one moment, Cloud stepped forward into Kuja’s space, combed his fingers through Kuja’s hair, and leaned down and kissed him.

Squall stared, frozen, as Kuja pressed himself into Cloud’s body and kissed him opened-mouth and passionate, letting out a small moan as Cloud put an arm around him and pulled him impossibly closer.

Squall was suddenly keenly aware of Bartz kneeling right next to him.  It was usually shocking moments that had Squall and Bartz exchanging glances, but Squall could not look at Bartz at all in that moment.  Heat flooded his cheeks as he continued to watch as Cloud and Kuja made out with each other.  They didn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon.

Bartz cleared his throat very, very quietly, and then Bartz and Squall slowly got up to go.

They walked away from the private scene side-by-side.  Squall still could not look at Bartz and he was sure his own face was beet red by now.  Oh, and they were heading back to the _tent they shared_.

Bartz went in first, uncharacteristically quiet.  Squall lay down beside him, muttered a goodnight, then turned over on his side away from Bartz and shut his eyes tight.

Seeing two men kissing like that... his mind had immediately gone to thinking about Bartz that way and...

Could he?  With Bartz...?

Squall squeezed his eyes shut tight on the thought that wouldn't leave. Even if he wanted to hold Bartz close, press his lips to his... would Bartz let him?  Or even want to?  They were good friends now, so would approaching him in that way ruin the friendship?

Squall eventually did fall asleep, but sometime during the early hours of the morning he had the nightmare again.

He stood in front of Bartz as the floor beneath Bartz’s feet began to crumble.  Squall looked over his shoulder this time and saw Kuja far behind him summoning sharp, crystallised magic.  Then Kuja threw the shard and it raced past Squall and was impaled in Bartz’s heart.

Bartz fell while Squall shouted his name.

Squall awoke from the nightmare gasping.  He crawled from the tent and into the moonlight, taking in lungfuls of cold air and leaning against a jagged wall of rock.

From the other tent nearby Cloud emerged.  He rubbed a hand over his face and muttered something about wishing this world had coffee, then he observed Squall.  A sympathetic look crossed his face, but then it smooth over to stoic.

“Kuja and I have been talking…” Cloud told Squall.  “Or maybe it’s more like arguing.  He thinks we should leave the labyrinth and head to the surface.”

Squall looked up at the moon.  Although they were in a room in the labyrinth, the room gave the feeling of being outside, with a sky and a moon and even a faint breeze.  Squall suspected it was daytime outside the labyrinth, but they were in a place of always-night.

“Check with Bartz,” said Squall.  Squall and Bartz were supposed to be leading Cloud and Kuja astray, but after last night, Bartz may want to abandon that plan.  Either way, Squall was happy to leave it up to him.

Cloud was nodding absently.  “I don’t know if I want to go to the surface just yet.  There’s bad people after us and they can’t find us here.  But.  Kuja makes a good point about the moogles.”

Squall sighed; did he want to know?  “Moogles?”

Kuja emerged from the tent a lot more gracefully than Cloud or Squall.  “Our trust in the gods had wavered,” said Kuja with a yawn hidden by a delicate hand, “and now it all but falls into oblivion.  We trusted Chaos and he tossed his pawns aside.  We trusted the Great Will and he took to objectification; we are their commodities and not more.  We doubt the safety of the goddess’s embrace.”

“We want to see if Cosmos can help us, but we don’t necessarily think she can,” Cloud translated for Squall.  “So we have a Plan B: find the summon stone that will summon the dragon Shinryu.  Garland mentioned something before, implying that Cid and Shinryu don’t get along.”

Squall said, “Is this the fourth god you mentioned yesterday?  Because if you think that none of the gods are trustworthy…”

“Our options are kind of limited,” said Cloud.

“Nonetheless,” drawled Kuja, “we must find us a moogle who may trade with us this summon stone.  But this labyrinth runs deep, and no moogle has appeared for many days.”

Cloud reiterated the fact that he and Kuja were at odds by saying, “I’m not… entirely comfortable with going to the surface, just yet.”

Kuja wanted to save his brother, but Cloud was very protective of Kuja, for reasons Squall now knew and understood.  It was all a cycle, but – “I can’t help you with this decision,” Squall told them honestly.

When Bartz finally got up and out of the tent, Squall still couldn’t look at him.  The group packed up and went on their way, going forwards but neither going up nor down through the labyrinth.  During the journey Bartz and Kuja conversed with each other a lot, striking up what seemed to be an easy friendship.  Squall stuck behind with Cloud, who rarely spoke.  It was a good thing; he was the kind of companion that Squall could get along with because he never attempted awkward small talk and he minded his own business, making the silence between them relaxed and companiable.

But when Bartz turned to Squall to ask a question, Squall muttered “Whatever” at him, which he regretted when Bartz turned back around, looking hurt.

They ignored each other that night.

The next morning the group packed up their tents and went to move on.  Then Bartz blurted, “I don’t like being ignored!”

Everyone looked at Bartz.  Bartz looked directly at Squall.  “I get that maybe I did something wrong, or… you don’t like something about me, or something.  But no one likes being ignored.” There were tears welling in his eyes, Squall was alarmed to see.  “I have two best friends and one of them has been kidnapped by some weirdo and the other won’t talk to me.”

Cloud and Kuja stood awkwardly to the side.  Cloud rubbed a hand through his hair and Kuja said, “Cloud and I shall take a turn about the room.”

“We’ll check the perimeter,” Cloud agreed, and then they left.

“I’m sorry,” Squall whispered to Bartz.

Bartz rubbed a hand over his own mouth and nodded.  “Okay,” he said quietly.  “Want to walk a bit?”

They strolled in the opposite direction of Cloud and Kuja.  The room they were in was so big it actually wasn’t a bad idea to check its perimeter for extra doors or hidden chests.  They rounded a large pillar and saw a blue and shiny blob moving.  It seemed to notice them, shrinking further behind a pillar.

“Hello?” Bartz called.  “Are you… okay?”

The blob moved, forming eyes and a wide mouth.  “He…lo?” it said, voice grating and metallic.  It was shifting before them, turning into the shape of a man with Bartz’s face.  “Are you okay,” it rasped.

Squall felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  This was so wrong.

“Ahhh...” Bartz hesitated.

“Ahhh...” the thing mimicked.  Then it unsheathed a crystal version of Bartz’s sword and dashed at Bartz, cutting him across his arm and thigh.

Squall saw red.

He slashed at the thing, not stopping even after it let out a metallic scream.  He shot it over and over and when he ran out of bullets, he dropped his gunblade and smashed his fist into its head until it was practically headless.  It had been dying, then had lay there dead against the floor for some time.

Squall breathed harshly then stood slowly. He chanced a glance at Bartz who was leaning against a pillar and staring. He was bleeding.

Squall went over to him and got on his knees to examine Bartz’s cut leg, putting a gentle hand on his thigh and leaning close.

“You’re going to need a potion our a cure spell, “ Squall murmured softly. When he looked up, Bartz’s eyes were wide.

Then Squall realised what position they were in: Squall kneeling practically between Bartz’s thighs, Squall’s hand on one thigh, rubbing gently with a thumb, and Squall’s eye level was...

Squall was getting involuntary hard.

He stood abruptly, allowed himself a one second look at Bartz’s soft mouth, and then turned and walked rapidly away, running a shaky hand through his hair.

Then he ran.

The previous room had had a waterhole; he ripped off his shirt and dived into it, allowing the ice cold water to shock him out of his arousal.  The he stayed for some time, enjoying the dark and the weightlessness and the cold.

He wondered if he hadn't left Bartz just standing there,  if he had run a hand up that thigh, had kissed that wide, inciting mouth, had pulled that warm body close...  But he wasn't with the warm body, he was in the frigid water.

*

Later, Bartz did find him. He took off his own shoes and sat on a ledge, dangling his bare feet in the water.  Squall swam over to him. Bartz looked sad and disappointed. He said, “I think we need to take Cloud and Kuja to see Cosmos as soon as possible.”

Squall was relieved Bartz wasn't bringing up their awkward encounter.  He half-emerged from the pool so that he was in waist-deep; the clear, cool water sluicing off his bare chest. Bartz’s eyes widened and he blushed, then turned his face away.

Squall blinked at him for a moment, and had a fleeting thought of pulling Bartz into the water with him.  Bartz would yell and splash, then laugh, and Squall would pull him close…  The image in his mind looked nice, but it was unrealistic.

There was a moment of silence between them where they looked at the water and not each other.  Then Squall blurted, “I’m sorry,” at the same time Bartz said, “Are you alright?”

Squall wanted to laugh.  Or cry.  He wasn’t sure which.

“You’ve been acting strange lately,” Bartz elaborated quietly.  “You – “

“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier,” said Squall.  “I – don’t know what came over me.  I saw that _thing_ attack you and I just… lost it.”

Bartz finally looked at Squall, eyebrows raised.  “It took me by surprise, but you know I can fight pretty darn well, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Squall murmured, then thought, _But I see you die in my dreams every night.  What am I supposed to do, when the one I love –_

He cut the thought off before it could be become real.

“So you agree?” said Bartz.  “That we take Cloud and Kuja to see Cosmos asap?”

“Yeah,” said Squall.  It would also be good to find a moogle soon so that Squall could buy some bullets.

He pulled himself out of the water and pulled his shirt on; it stuck to his front and back uncomfortably but he had no alternative.  Then together Bartz and Squall went back to the room full of pillars and found the other half of their party.

“So we allow our travels to take us to the surface,” said Kuja with satisfaction, after he and Bartz discussed which route to take.

Cloud was frowning.  “Kuja, if Bartz has my Buster Sword, then that means – “

“That the ghost of your ex-girlfriend no longer holds Sephiroth prisoner,” finished Kuja coolly.  “Yes, Cloud, I am aware.  Yet we draw near to our destination, and if we must fight him, then so be it.”  Cloud looked forlorn so Kuja grabbed his arms and stared him in the eyes.  “You were always so adamant that you were not a puppet.  Now prove it: do not allow him to pull the strings.”

Cloud nodded slowly.  “Alright,” he said quietly.

Kuja nodded back, satisfied.

They chose a door whose staircase beyond went up.  It was all uncharted territory – Cloud continued to record each room on his map, but they had no guarantee they were going the right way, only that they were going in the right direction.

Later, while they were walking a thin curving path up a cliff, Bartz told Cloud and Kuja about the creature they saw.

“A manikin,” said Kuja; “there are many where Cloud and I resided.  You have never observed such creatures?”

Bartz shook his head.  “It’s like it was stealing my face for itself.  But then it had my sword, and knew my attack.”

Kuja nodded like this was nothing new.  “It would have had your form before you encountered it.  Mayhap it had been caught in the bowels of the labyrinth for a year or more and it had gone into a sort of hibernation.  More curious however is that it attacked you at all.”

That alarmed Squall.  “What do you mean?”

“Manikins don’t usually attack us unless we attack them first,” said Cloud.

“They make for easy prey,” Kuja agreed, “if one is ever up for a fight.”

“Kuja and I are Chaos warriors though,” said Cloud, “so maybe that’s why they leave us alone.”

*

Another night and day passed, and then they were emerging from the labyrinth in time to catch the sun setting behind the brightly cold tower of Order’s Sanctuary.

“It’s beautiful,” Cloud admitted.

“Quite,” Kuja drawled.  His eyes were narrowed.  “We are closer to Cosmos than I had anticipated we would be at this juncture.”

“If we camp here,” said Bartz, “and get up early, walk a decent pace… we’ll be chatting with the goddess by tomorrow afternoon!”

Cloud and Kuja didn’t say anything, and when they all settled around the camp fire that night, Squall could feel their unease.  This was a very new and probably hostile territory for them, and now that all four friends were so close to their goal, the reality of that goal, and its very possible failure, was being felt.

“We’ve come so far, we can’t go back now,” Cloud murmured; he seemed to be talking to himself.

*

And so they arrived.

They were met by a party of Cosmos warriors – almost all of them, Squall observed – who stepped aside for Squall, Bartz, Cloud and Kuja.  Squall felt like he was walking Cloud and Kuja to their execution.  He clenched his jaw and held his head high.

Cosmos stood from her white throne, and the Warrior of Light, who was standing just to the side of her, unsheathed his sword as they approached.

Cosmos was a beautiful, powerful and sad goddess, who was always looking down and away as if she were on the verge of giving bad news.

“Ah,” began Bartz, “we have brought – “

The Warrior of Light cut him off by pressing the tip of his sword to Bartz’s throat. 

It all happened in the span of a moment:

Squall aimed his gun at Warrior of Light’s head –

The Onion Knight pressed his sword to Squall’s side –

Tifa grabbed Cloud’s arm and twisted it behind him.  He grunted in pain and dropped to his knees –

Kuja reach for him but stopped when Lightning pressed her weapon against his throat.  He glared at her –

Vaan shouted at everyone to stop as Laguna pushed through and aimed a gun at the Onion Knight’s head and said something about how he isn’t happy about fighting kids but will if Luneth harms even one hair on Squall’s head so help him he will blast him –

“STOOOOP!” Vaan shouted.

“They have marred the sanctuary of our goddess,” said Warrior of Light, “by bringing warriors of Chaos – “

“Yeah I get that but who cares!” Vaan argued, gesticulating.  “Who cares whose side who is on, you won’t even let them have a say!”

The Warrior of Light pulled his sword away, but only a little.  He titled his chin in Cloud and Kuja’s direction.  “So speak.”

Cloud was still on his knees, eyes screwed shut and unable to articulate, so Kuja said, “Dear Cosmos, goddess of Harmony.  I hereby ask if you would please help my brother Zidane, who has been possessed by the Great Will.”

The crowd murmured.  Luneth looked disturbed and pulled away from Squall a little.

Squall looked at Cosmos.  Her expression went even sadder.

She did not look surprised.

Then she said, voice quiet and lyrical, “I cannot.”

Kuja’s face transformed from deferent to something angry and nasty and downright frightful.  His eyes were bright and he bared his teeth.  “I see,” he drawled slowly.  “So.  Under gods’ guidance and under their heavy palms we do their bidding, us simple pawns playing game after game on this dead world that is your chess board.  And when you bore of even that, you allow the innocent to endure torture of the mind and his loved ones must only watch and hope and pray to gods and goddesses who find great amusement in our sorrow.”

Lightning had pulled her weapon away and was now looking at him.  She was listening carefully. 

“Choas spoke of Cid of the Lufaine as one would son to a father,” Kuja continued quietly, dangerously.  “And what are you, Cosmos, to Cid?  A daughter?  A _wife_?  Is this truly a war between gods, or is this simply a family of sadists seeking their next entertainment?  What theatre, what production, what small and silly gimmick will please the gods next, I wonder?”

“That’s enough,” said Warrior of Light.

Kuja turned his furious gaze to him.  “But dear Soldier of Hell, I am not finished.  See, before I leave this place, I’m going to - “ he turned to Tifa, summoned a ball of light and aimed it at her head – “ _blow your fucking head off if you don’t let him go!_ ”

“Aaaaaaaaand we gotta go,” Bartz said to Squall.

Tifa gave Kuja a cool look.  “You can try,” she said.

Kuja’s eyes flashed.  “I will try and I will succeed and I will enjoy doing it.”

Lightning grabbed Kuja’s arm and whispered something in his ear.  With one final glare, Kuja pulled his arm away and the ball of light disappeared.  Tifa let Cloud go and Cloud stood with a groan.

Bartz grabbed Squall’s arm, Squall patted Cloud on the shoulder to let him know they were leaving, and Kuja held Cloud’s good hand.  The four of them followed Lightning through the crowd and out of Sanctuary.

Squall did not look back.

*

“She didn’t know who I was,” Cloud was saying in a daze as they walked.  “She had no idea.”

Lightning looked over her shoulder at Cloud.  “Tifa doesn’t have any memories of her world,” she told him.  “Don’t take it personally.”

Cloud continued to frown.  Kuja crossed his arms and pouted.

“So Light,” said Bartz, “where are you taking us?”

“Cosmos may not be able to help you,” said Lightning with a disapproving air as they rounded a cliff, “but _she_ might.”

In the distance Squall saw Yuna in a field, staff in hand, as the summon Valefor flew around her.  A little way aways, Jeckt stood watching with his arms crossed.

“Hey Yuna!” Bartz waved, then ran over to her and gave her a hug.

Squall scowled.

The rest of them came over.  Lightning introduced them to Yuna: “You know Squall right?  And Bartz, obviously.  This is Cloud and Kuja.”

It would have been obvious to Yuna that Cloud and Kuja were warriors of Chaos, but she didn’t let it show as she shook Cloud’s hand and said hi in her soft, high voice.  Kuja took her hand in his and kissed the back of it.  “So you are a _summoner_ , my lady?” he asked with lowered lashes.

Yuna laughed.  “Yes?”  She waved her staff and Valefor disappeared into a portal made of silver light runes.

“Do you think,” Cloud asked her hopefully, “that you could summon Shinryu?”

She thought about it, then shook her head.  “I can only summon Aeons I’ve made a pact with, I’m sorry.”

Cloud’s face fell.

“That’s not why I introduced you guys,” said Lightning.  “Yuna is able to perform a Sending.”

“A what?” said Squall.

“Souls that are lingering, that aren’t moving on…” Yuna tried to explain.  “I can perform a kind of ritual so that they can move on to the next plane.”

“So…” said Cloud, “like an exorcism?”  Yuna looked at him confusedly.  He tried it a different way: “What if there’s a soul that’s lingering, but not necessarily dead, but he’s in the wrong place, like he has taken possession of someone else’s body?”

“A soul,” she said slowly, “that isn’t dead, but is in someone else?  Well I… I think a Sending would work for that too.”

Cloud and Kuja’s eyes went wide, and they exchanged glances.

Bartz took Yuna’s hand in two of his and gazed at her.  Squall narrowed his eyes at their joined hands, then looked away.  “Please come with us,” Bartz implored her.  “We need to go save Zidane, who’s possessed by Cid of the Lufaine.”

“Ah, Cid of the… Lufaine?  So a pilgrimage to save our comrade?”

“Yes!” said Bartz.

“Yuna isn’t going anywhere!” a gruff voice interrupted.

It was Jecht.

He came over, scowling, looking at each of them with a piercing stare.  “There’s _no way_ I’m letting Yuna go on a journey with My Handsy – “ he pushed Bartz away from her – “ _You –_ “ he said of Squall, who rolled his eyes, “and some guy who is obviously a Chaos warrior, and this girl who looks like she rolled out of bed this morning and forgot to put a dress on!”

Kuja blinked at him rapidly.

Jeckt turned to Lightning.  “And don’t think I trust you either.”

“I actually wasn’t planning on going,” she said, “not that it’s any of your business.”

“It absolutely is my business!”

Lightning looked unimpressed.  “Why don’t you go on this pilgrimage with them?”

“Oh god no,” Squall muttered at the same time Yuna said, “Yes!  Sir Jecht, would you please be my Guardian on this journey to save Zidane?”

“No!” shouted Jecht.

“Oh… then Light, would you do me the honour – “

Jecht growled.  “I _meant_ \- ! Aaaahhh FUCK!” He stomped his feet.  “Fuck this shit!”

Bartz looked appalled, then amused.  Kuja drawled, “Lady Yuna, now that we have understood you to be the solution to Zidane’s possession, I think we should make haste and start our journey immediately.”

“I agree,” said Cloud.  “We still have some daylight left.”

*

“You want to go back through the labyrinth?” Bartz asked Cloud incredulously.

They were walking down a winding path, yet the view around them was quite pleasant – wild flowers grew on the side of the cliffs and the grass was green.  Cloud answered, “If we stick to the main road, Sephiroth could find us easily.”

Bartz put this hands behind his head like he usually did when being casual.  “So what?  There’s six of us now, and we have a powerful summoner with us; there’s no way he could beat us all.”

Cloud looked at Bartz, then at Squall who was walking on the other side of him.  Squall nodded his agreement, and hoped the gesture gave Cloud courage.  Did Cloud really think that they would just abandon him to fight Sephiroth alone?

“…The main road will be faster,” Cloud conceded.

They finally came across a moogle.  Cloud asked him about purchasing the summon stone for Shinryu, but the moogle didn’t know anything about it.  Squall was able to buy some bullets and a new outfit, as did Kuja, Cloud and Bartz, whose current attire had been cut and torn here and there from their journey to Sanctuary.

“You know what?” said Bartz, “I’ve just had an idea,” and he bought from the moogle a rod similar to Yuna’s.

Yuna took it from him and examined it.  “The Arc Arcana.  A good rod.  Can you use it?”

Bartz gave her a sly grin.  “If you teach me.  I can pretty much learn anything,” he added with a little heel-tap.

“He can use any weapon, and mimic almost any skill,” Cloud elaborated.

“Soooo…” said Bartz, leaning toward her, “can you teach me how to perform a Sending?  You know, in case something happens – “

“What would happen!” Jecht shouted at him.

Bartz flailed.  “Ah ah nothing!  Nothing!  It just you know, increases our chances - !”

“I’ll do it,” said Yuna agreeably, “I’ll teach you the Sending ritual.”


	3. Tomb for Angels and Men

There was one thing Cloud knew now for certain: Squall had a big crush on Bartz.

 _At least_ a crush, but it could be more like love; he wasn’t sure.  What he was sure of was that Squall was always glowering with jealousy whenever Bartz and Yuna even looked at each other, yet alone had a conversation.  And they had a lot of conversations.

They camped one night, then throughout the following day Yuna and Bartz walked down the path, arms linked together, heads leaning in, and talked like friends did, about everything and nothing.  Squall and Jecht followed behind and scowled at their backs.

Kuja was also in a bad mood, but for a different reason, and it was Cloud’s fault.

Cloud deliberately trailed them behind the group and told Kuja softly, “She was my best friend.” Tifa.

“Do you honestly think I care?” Kuja drawled, not looking at him.

“Yes,” said Cloud.

Kuja clicked his tongue.  “So she was your _best friend_. Did you tumble her?”

“Uh…” What a loaded question.  “It was a long time ago.”

“Oh my God!” said Kuja, rubbing his eyes.  “Is she the mother of your son?”

Jecht must have gotten bored of scowling at Bartz because he looked over his shoulder at Cloud.  “You got a son?” he asked him gruffly.

“Yeah,” Cloud said softly.  “But my memory of him is faded.”

Squall shot him a look of pity over his shoulder.  Jecht grunted in what Cloud thought was understanding.  “I’ve got a son too.  Kind of a crybaby.”

Cloud didn’t know what to do with that.

“So,” said Kuja, “is she?”

Cloud sighed.  “Denzel’s adopted.”

“That does not answer the question,” Kuja muttered.

Cloud didn’t say anything and there was an uncomfortable lull in the conversation.  Then Squall went to walk beside Cloud and asked quietly, “Do you think Denzel is waiting for you back on your world?”

“I think so,” said Cloud just as softly, “but what if… he doesn’t remember me, or I don’t remember him?”

Squall wasn’t one for tact or honeyed words.  “It’s possible,” he said.

*

Cloud and Kuja left the others at the camp fire that evening to talk alone. “Are you still angry at me?” asked Cloud.

Kuja leaned against a moss covered tree and gave him a side eyed look.  “Probably,” he said, but a small half smile belied this word.  “My true disappointment lies in the severe lack of tumbling these past days.”

Cloud was amused even as a hot flush heated his cheeks.  “I’ve been missing you too.”  He stepped closer into Kuja’s space until he had Kuja pressed up against the enormous trunk of the tree.  He braced himself against it and leaned down and kissed him.

Kuja moaned into his mouth.  He mumbled something.

Cloud pulled away.  “What?”

“I said, ‘Oh, finally!’  You are not afraid the others will discover our affair?”

At the start of their journey with Squall and Bartz, Cloud had been very conscious of his relationship with Kuja and had tried to hide it until he could trust them.  Cloud told Kuja, “Let them find out,” before diving back into Kuja’s embrace.

Their kisses were heated.  Cloud pulled off their clothes all while kissing Kuja’s neck.  Not long after Kuja growled at him to _Get inside me already_ and then it was hot and sex and tight and good and like coming home.  Kuja had a way of taking Cloud’s soul, heart and body all inside him until Cloud was consumed and taken over by his body and his scent.  Kuja was truly the Angel of Death, and he would be the death of Cloud.  It wasn’t long before Kuja was coming on their stomachs between them, and Cloud’s orgasm hit and rolled over him in bright waves that seemed to last for minutes.

They haphazardly put their clothes back on and sat together, leaning against the tree and panting.

Yuna walked around the corner and stopped and looked at them.  She gasped into her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she looked like she really truly meant it, “was I… interrupting something?”

“Yes,” said Kuja at the same time Cloud muttered, “It’s alright.”

Yuna was blushing.  “I… like to walk alone some nights and I volunteered to come find you.  The others are heading to bed now.”

Cloud nodded, then stood and held a hand out for Kuja, who took it gracefully and stood himself.

The three strolled back to camp, but they took their time, taking a detour to take in the sight of the dead plains beyond the wood they were currently camping in.

They stopped at the border and stared at the misty, thunder-struck plains.

“You know this place?” Cloud asked Yuna.

“Yes, it’s the Thunder Plains.  I remember the smell.”

“Someone approaches,” Kuja murmured in warning.

He was right.  Someone was walking towards them across the dead land and through the mist.  She stopped several metres away and stared at Cloud in fear, as if she wanted to warn him.

Yuna pulled out her rod and started to perform a Sending.  Cloud stopped her immediately by grasping her weapon.  “Don’t,” he said; “she means no harm.”

“Do you know for sure?” said Kuja lowly.  “Her presence is always a portent.”

Cloud stepped towards her.  “Aerith,” he called, “what’s wrong?”

She was shaking her head at him.  _Go back_ , she seemed to say to him.  _Do not journey this way.  Come no further._

“Why?” said Cloud.

But as usual she never spoke, she only implored with her expressive face and stilted gestures.

“You know I have to go,” Cloud told her.  “I have to correct my sins.  I must be forgiven.  I mean… I must forgive myself.”

She stared at him, hands slowly falling to her sides as if she was giving up.

“I can’t go back now,” Cloud continued.  “There’s enemies behind me and to the side and enemies in front.  There’s nowhere left for me to travel but forward.”

She always looked so sad.

She was stepping back into the mist, and then she was gone.

*

Another day of travelling, and then another. Both days the group encountered manikins, which they fought and dispatched without too much hardship. But the one thing that they did not seem to be able to win against was boredom.

“Let's sing songs!” said Bartz. “ _Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum, it's a pirates life for meeeee!”_

“I've got one,” Cloud said hesitantly, remembering the song he and Tidus used to sing when they were bored. “You sing ‘a-weema-we’ over and over, keeping the beat, ok?” he said to Bartz. Bartz enthusiastically did as he was told, then Cloud started singing to Bartz’s beat: “ _In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight...”_

Bartz looked at Squall when Cloud sang ‘lion’, and then started dancing at him.

Cloud sang a couple of verses before Kuja stopped him and drawled, “You're butchering that song with a rusty Tonberry knife.  Allow me to show you how it is done.”

And when Kuja started singing, Squall’s eyes went wide, Bartz stopped singing to guffaw, Yuna gasped and Jecht said, “What the...?”

It was like Kuja was singing at the opera.

“Er...” said Cloud.

Later, they came across a gate marked with the magic seal of Chaos.  Cloud stopped and stared at it.  Then he turned abruptly and stared at Bartz in alarm.  “At which point did we cross over into Chaos’s territory?” he demanded.

Bartz summoned the map and unrolled it.  Everyone gathered behind him to look.

“Um,” said Bartz, “perhaps… some time ago?”

“The manikins had been increasing as of late,” Kuja mused.

“Alright!” announced Bartz, abruptly rolling up the map and turning to address the group.  “We need to talk!  We need to address the elephant in the room.  The… proverbial room, ‘cause we’re outside.  The proverbial elephant, too.  So I mean, not the gate.  The gate is not the elephant.”

“Good Lord,” Squall muttered.

“Is it about how we all know that Cloud and Kuja are fucking but they think no one knows?” said Jecht.

Cloud felt his cheeks heat up.

“No,” said Bartz.  “And they’re not _fucking,_ jeez, it’s obvious they love each other and are in a committed relationship – “

“You _know?_ ” Cloud asked him.

“Squall and I found out the first night we camped together,” said Bartz dismissively with a wave of his hand.

“You have been aware of our relationship all this time?” said Kuja with narrowed eyes.  “You mean… I could have… we could have…” he looked at Cloud in despair and then in anger.  “We could have been - !  For days - !”

Cloud’s face must have been as red as a ripe tomato by this point.  “S - sorry?  We had sex the last couple of nights, isn’t that enough?”

“What a ridiculous question,” Kuja spat.  “Of course not!”

“You’re all embarrassing Lady Yuna,” said Jecht, and yeah, she looked pretty embarrassed, “so shut the fuck up and let’s go.”

“No wait,” said Bartz, “we have to discuss the elephant in the room.”

“That wasn’t it?”

“No!  So okay, we’re in Chaos’s territory and we’re heading towards the Chaos shrine which is _devoid of people_ and so do any of you actually know _where Cid of the Lufaine is?_ ”

Bartz had said this very quickly and seemed out of breath.  Everyone stared at him.

Because no, no one knew where Cid, therefore Zidane, was.

“We need a plan,” Squall said eventually.

“I need to go back to the labyrinth,” said Cloud.  “Hear me out.  There’s a moogle there who has my Ultima Weapon.  I should have enough now to trade her for it. So I’d like to make a detour there.”

Bartz unrolled the map again and Cloud pointed to where Mardi the moogle was, and then also to another castle north west of that labyrinth entrance.  “I think we should go there.  It will be a safe place for us to stay the night.”

Bartz squinted at it.  “What is it?”

“Ultimecia’s castle.”

“No fucking way,” said Squall.

Cloud ignored this by turning to the gate, summoning his nail bat and smashing it. With a loud magical hiss and tinkle, the Chaos seal shattered, shards disappearing in a small explosion of light.

They walked through and down the winding path.  It wasn't long until they encountered someone new...

At first Cloud thought it was a manikin because the man was half covered in a light purple transparent crystallised substance. But then the figure stumbled closer to them, as if drunk or fatigued, and Cloud gasped and stopped walking, because it was Sephiroth.

The crystal was over half of this body: the side if his neck, his right arm and his right wing. It seemed to be on his side and part of his right leg as well.

Squall put his hand on Cloud’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don't be afraid,” said Squall in his deep, reassuring voice.

On Cloud's other side Kuja took his hand.  “We are always here for you if you need us,” said Kuja.  “You are not alone.”

Cloud was not alone, but he had to do this by himself.

He walked towards Sephiroth and away from his group of friends, raising his weapon as he went.  His heart beat with fear, but he kept his expression hard and unrelenting.

Sephiroth's sword was quivering as if he could not keep a grip on it. Cloud stopped just a metre in front of Sephiroth, wary, but when Cloud took in his weakened state he felt pity and lowered his guard.

Sephiroth smirked even as he breathed laboriously and dropped the masamune on the ground.  “I remember,” said Sephiroth slowly, eyes on Cloud, “when you were just an infantryman.  You were so young and beautiful, and when Zack tried to introduce us, you hid behind him like a child clutching his mother’s skirts.”  Sephiroth looked up at the clouds, lost in his reminiscence.  “You loved me then. “

“I never loved you,” Cloud bit out.  “I was infatuated and awestruck, and that was a long time ago.”

Sephiroth looked to the side, saddened.  “I haven't got long left, now.” 

He looked into Cloud’s eyes, then fell forward.

Cloud reacted out and caught his left arm as he fell to his knees. “Don’t touch the disease,” Sephiroth told Cloud, stiltedly flexing his wing to indicate the crystallis, “it is highly contagious.”  He grabbed Cloud back and pulled him close until they were breathing the same air. “As I die, I need you to look at me without anger.”

Cloud looked at him instead with pity and resignation as he helped Sephiroth lie down on the ground. Sephiroth crossed his arms over his chest and Cloud picked up the masamune and lay it by him, pressing the hilt into his hands.

With a sigh, Sephiroth closed his eyes and allowed the crystal to take him over completely, freezing him in place.

Bartz came over.  “Should we build a tomb for him?” he said quietly.

“No,” said Cloud and Kuja, at the same time.

*

Bartz mirrored Yuna’s moves, swinging his rod in graceful arcs as he spun, making sure to tread carefully on the water’s surface.  There was a small smile on Yuna’s face – she seemed pleased with Bartz’s progress.

They had found an arched entrance to the labyrinth and had made it to the glade where Cloud had claimed the moogle to be.  When they had arrived the grass was lush and the water clear, but there were no moogles in the glade or connecting rooms.

Squall watched Bartz and Yuna practice from where he sat on a stone ledge, methodically cleaning his gunblade.  They were the perfect summoner pair, a man and woman mirror image, Bartz copying exactly what Yuna was showing.  The water rippled and started to rise with them stepping on it as lightly and as easily as they might step on stairs.  Bartz looked beautiful in the soft light of the setting sun.

Cloud sat next to Squall.  “You like him,” said Cloud.

Squall gave him an annoyed side-along glance, hating Cloud for breaking his private moment.  “Of course I like him, he’s one of my best friends.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Cloud absently swung the nail bat between his knees.  “You should tell him how you feel.”

Squall looked at Bartz, at his clear brown eyes, and at his soft hair made messy by the breeze.  “I can’t,” said Squall quietly.  Admitting that – telling Bartz – no.  That could ruin things between them and make their friendship awkward. And not only that, but: “I have these… reoccurring nightmares...”

Cloud gestured for him to continue, showing no inclination to make fun of Squall for his weakness any time soon.

“Bartz stands on a crumbling ground,” Squall told Cloud quietly so that no one else could hear.  “Then someone stabs him in his heart, and he falls backwards into the abyss.”

“You have this dream a lot?”

Squall nodded.  “It’s a little different every time.  Is it prophetic, a warning?  Or is it a memory?”

“In my experience,” said Cloud, “dreams are rarely prophetic unless you are in fact a prophet.  Memories can’t be trusted – what you forget your body remembers, but your mind tries to put the broken pieces together.  Or maybe it’s just your fears talking.”

Squall only found this mildly helpful.  “So you think it’s a memory from a previous cycle?”

Cloud was quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts.  “Sephiroth keeps saying I belong to him,” Cloud said eventually, “because I’m his clone.  Am I a clone, because he said I’m a clone?  What if I’m not a clone, what if I’m as human as you are, but by being told something I have come to believe and it is therefore true?” He took a deep breath and blinked out of his daze.  He looked at Squall with poison tainted eyes.  “In this world, if you die you come back to life.  If your nightmares are memories then they’re long gone, but if they will come true in the future then Bartz will die and then come back.  Just ignore them.  You don’t want to end up… like me.”

Squall looked at him with commiseration.

Behind them, Jecht and Kuja were arguing about how far apart their tents should be.  Kuja told Jecht he snored, and Jecht said he didn’t enjoy hearing Kuja moaning and groaning like a cat in heat either.

Cloud must have heard, because his cheeks were turning pink.

Squall asked him, “How did you and Kuja get together?”

Cloud looked straight ahead at Bartz and Yuna, but didn’t seem to be focused on them.  “We ran into each other in the labyrinth,” he said.  “Then we slept together.”

A pause.  Then Squall: “That’s it?”

Cloud gave him a smug half-smile.  “He was there, I wanted him, he wanted me.  What else is there?”

“So you just…” Squall tried to wrap his head around it.  Imagine if he just – went up to Bartz –

“I admit,” Cloud went on, “it was mostly Kuja.  He can be pretty forward if you hadn’t already noticed.  And I was lonely,” he added with a shrug.

_I was lonely._

Was Bartz lonely?  He never really seemed like it, but he did seem to need company in a way that Squall didn’t – in fact, Squall didn’t really need or want company most of the time.

Bartz and Yuna were at the climax of their Sendings, the spirals of water lifting them up higher and higher. Bartz, elated, made a whoop of joy – Yuna shouted at him to concentrate but it was too late: Bartz was falling –

Squall ran to him, sloshing through the knee deep water. Bartz had fallen in, then he emerged laughing, and Squall stopped where he was and felt foolish for being worried.

Bartz stood and ran through the water gracelessly toward Squall. He grabbed Squall’s arms.  “Did you see that?” he panted.  “I _aced_ that Sending!”

“Technically you didn’t Send anyone,” Squall murmured, but Bartz didn’t seem to care about this, he was grinning at Squall, too caught up in his triumph.  Squall caught Bartz’s happiness as if it were infectious and gave Bartz a half-smile, holding Bartz’s arms back.

“Oh!” said Bartz, looking down at Squall.  “You’re all wet!  Your shoes must be soaked through.”

“Yeah,” said Squall, not caring one bit.

Later, they lay in their tent.  Bartz put his hands behind his head.  “I think we may actually be in with a chance, now.”

Squall sat up and held out his hand.  “You left your vambraces on; here, let me help you take them off.”

Bartz’s vambraces were made from a good quality silk-like material that wrapped around his wrists and up to his middle finger.  Bartz casually put one hand in Squall’s lap and Squall methodically unhooked and unwound the material.  He was concentrating so hard on his task that he did not realise Bartz was watching him until he was done with the first one. 

Bartz gave him a small smile when Squall gestured for the other hand, then he grunted as he sat up so Squall could reach.  “You know I find you easy to talk to,” said Bartz.

Squall gave him a perplexed look.  “Since when?”

Bartz raised his eyebrows.  “Since always!  I’m always talking at you, and you always listen.  Do you sometimes feel as if I talk _too_ much?”

 _Yes_ , Squall thought, but said instead, “It’s okay,” which was also true.  He liked Bartz’s voice and enthusiasm and the way he gesticulated with everything he said.

Bartz grabbed Squall’s wrist and Squall had to stop unwinding the material.  They looked into each other’s eyes.  “Sometimes you seem closed off or sad,” said Bartz.  “So I want you to know that if you ever need to talk, you just tell me to keep quiet and listen, and I will listen, okay?”

Squall have him a long look.  _You should tell him how you feel_ , Cloud had said.

 _The things we do for love_ , Cloud had also said, what felt like a lifetime ago.

 _I would do anything for you_ , Squall thought.  _Anything._

But he mumbled his thanks instead, and finished unwinding the material.

*

“Welcome back, kupo!” Squall heard the moogle greet Cloud through the thin canvas wall of his tent.  Squall groaned and rolled over, hoping to get a little more sleep.

“Mardi,” greeted Cloud, “I need the Ultima Weapon.  I should have enough to trade you for it.”

“You won’t part with the pretty feather around your neck kupo?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“A pity kupo.  But I’m sure we can make a deal, kupo.”

“I can’t remember if I asked you this last time,” Cloud said, sounding hesitant, “but do you know where I could get the summon stone to summon Shinryu?”

“Shinryu, kupo?  Why would you want to summon that ugly old dragon, kupo?  Anyway you can’t get that summon stone from any moogle, kupo.”

Squall blinked his eyes open and listened.

“What do you mean,” said Cloud.

“Only one person has that summon stone and that’s Chaos, kupo.  I don’t think Chaos is going to give it to you, kupo!  Although maybe it doesn’t hurt to ask, kupo.”

Cloud sighed.  “I asked a lot of moogles, they never told me that.”

“You must have been asking the wrong questions, kupo, because everyone knows that, kupo.”

There was a pause.  “I guess I had been asking if I could buy it, rather than where it was.”

“You gotta be clear, kupo,” she scolded.  “I can’t even tell if you’re a boy or a girl, kupo, how am I supposed to know what you want unless you say, kupo.”

Cloud bought the sword he wanted off her, and Kuja and Jecht bought some spells and items.  Then the party of six were off on their journey again, Mardi waving them off with her little paw.

They travelled another day to Ultimecia’s castle, despite Squall’s protests about going there.  But Cloud argued that Ultimecia had several guest rooms and that they would be welcome to stay even if she wasn’t there to say so.  The idea of sleeping in an actual comfortable bed with a roof over their heads convinced Yuna, and in the end Squall had been the only one protesting, so he followed them.

It was a dark, gothic structure that despite its Victorian interior furnishings gave an aboding feeling.  But Cloud strolled in and told the group that he and his friend would stay here sometimes.  “There’s an art gallery over there,” he said, pointing to his left, “and a ballroom over there – “

“A ballroom!” Bartz exclaimed.  He and Yuna exchanged glances.  “I’ve got just the outfit; I’m going to find my bedroom and then get changed, and then let’s dance!”

Yuna pumped her fist in the air.  “Okay, me too!  I have a Songtress dress sphere, um, somewhere…”

“That’s sounds like a terrible idea,” Jecht grumbled, but no one was listening.  Squall himself had already changed into his SeeD uniform after he’d gotten his leather pants wet the day before.  Truth be told, he didn’t mind dancing, but at that moment he was drawn towards the gallery.  He went inside and looked at the some of the paintings, pausing a moment at one featuring a field of flowers.

A whooshing sound like the ocean went through his head.  “I know this place…”

“Nice picture,” said Jecht, sidling up next to him.

“It’s not a nice picture,” Squall told him, unable to take his eyes away, “it’s a horrible picture, the most frightening picture in the room.”

Jecht looked from the picture of the field of flowers Squall was looking at, to the dark, fiery portrait of Diablos next to it.  “You’re an odd guy.”

“It’s sad,” said Squall.  “This painting makes me feel an inescapable despair.”

“Suddenly the ballroom doesn’t sound so bad,” Jecht muttered as he walked away.  Squall eventually followed him, tearing his eyes away.  He and Jecht went through the massive foyer and then up the stairs to the ballroom where Cloud was fiddling with the record player and Kuja and Yuna were getting in position to waltz.

“My lady.” Kuja kissed the back of her hand.

“Are you going to lead?” said Yuna.

Kuja blinked at her.  “Obviously.”

She titled her head and gave him a look that said, _It wasn’t obvious to me_ , and then Cloud got the music playing: a slow song that once again made Squall feel both nostalgic and incredibly depressed, like a heavy black blanket had been thrown over him.

No one else seemed to have felt it, though; in fact Kuja and Yuna were laughing in joy as Kuja waltzed her around the room.  _I know this song_ , thought Squall.  _I love this song.  No, I hate this song!_

And then Bartz walked into the room wearing bell bottom trousers and a red shirt that exposed his navel and then the darkness lifted as if the sun had come out and no song, no stupid painting, no one in the whole world mattered because Bartz looked like _that_ , and he was looking right at Squall, lips parting as if he were about say, _Dance with me, you are mine, I am yours, you are everything and everything else is nothing compared to us in this room right in this moment_.

Then Kuja barged into Squall’s field of vision.

“We shall dance!” he declared.  “I can tell by your physique and air that you have terpsichorean skills.  I will allow you to lead.”

Bartz was being dragged onto the dance floor by Yuna.  _No, wait, I..._ thought Squall.  He looked at Cloud who shrugged his shoulders at him, then said something to Jecht Squall didn’t hear.  Both were at the edge of the room, arms crossed like they had no intention of dancing.

Squall danced Kuja around the room with sheer muscle memory.  To be fair, Kuja was a very good and obviously well trained dance partner.  Yuna and Bartz, however, were stepping on each other’s toes and then stopping and laughing about it, then they were dancing around in a more modern way as if the song playing was a pop song.  Cloud called to the room that he and Jecht would go explore the rest of the castle and make sure there were enough guest rooms.  And then Squall, without realising exactly what he was doing but determined none-the-less, abandoned Kuja mid-step and went straight for Bartz, took him in his arms and lead them in a dance around the room.

Kuja and Yuna stared after them, perplexed yet amused, but Squall didn’t care, because Bartz looked _happy_ to be there in his arms.

Squall took him around, and Bartz matched him step to step, hand wave and touch to hand wave and touch.  On the crest of one verse, Squall lifted him in the air and landed him gracefully.  He dipped him.  It perhaps should have been graceless, or silly, or fun.  But it was nothing like that, because Bartz’s amused smile was fading into something serious, lips parted, body warm and close and then dancing away, only for Squall to pull him back in again and twirl them round.  He vaguely registered Cloud coming back to tell them he’d assigned them rooms, and that Kuja and Yuna and Cloud and Jecht were saying their goodnights and were leaving the room.  But still Squall took Bartz around the room and couldn’t care less about them or any of that.  And Bartz…

Bartz was still looking at him, like _that_ –

Bartz grabbed the lapels of Squall’s jacket and pulled him in close.   “Kiss me,” he breathed.

Squall did, pulling him in impossibly closer and kissing him open-mouthed and deep.  Bartz pushed him up against the only table in the room and the record player was bumped and the music stopped, but Squall didn’t care, preferred it in fact, because he could hear Bartz panting into his mouth.

They turned so that Bartz could sit on the table, thighs wrapped around Squall’s hips, and Squall made quick work of Bartz’s shirt, pushing it over his shoulders but not completely off.  Bartz started undoing Squall’s belt and trouser buttons.

“Take my pants off,” said Bartz, demanding and mouthy and absolutely wrecked, and Squall only paused for barely a second before shimmying Bartz’s pants off his hips and down his thighs and on the floor.  Together they managed to pull down Squall’s trousers, just enough to –

They moaned into each other’s mouths as their hips came together.  Overwhelmed, Squall dragged his mouth down Bartz’s jaw and kissed his neck, nipping softly at the sensitive skin there.  There was something powerful and sexy about Squall being mostly fully dressed and Bartz naked aside from a shirt draped off his arms.  Squall’s thrusts were minute but no less passionate, and then they were coming on each other, orgasm more blinding and hot than any spell.

They helped each other pull their clothes back on, Bartz grinning while Squall’s face felt hot.  Bartz led the way out of the ballroom, Squall following not far behind.  But a strange feeling came over him…

He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

Rinoa stood there at the other end of the room.  _Wait, who the hell is Rinoa?_ Squall thought, only to realise, no, it was not her, it was the sorceress Ultimecia.

“Don’t touch,” said Ultimecia, and then her image flickered and vanished.

*

Squall ran his fingers through Bartz’s thick hair as he slept in the bed next to him.  He lay back down with a sigh, then looked to his other side and froze.

Ultimecia was standing there in the room.

Squall sat up, summoning his gunblade into his hand.

“This is all in your mind,” she drawled. “You cannot hurt me here, and he – “ she gestured to Bartz in the bed next to him – “will not hear nor see me.”

Squall put the gunblade on the bed next to him.  “I’m dreaming.”

Ultimecia looked amused.  “Perhaps, but that does not mean you and I are not conversing.  I have hijacked Chaos’s time loop to power my junction time ability so that I may send you the location of Cid of the Lufaine.”

Squall sat up straight at the mention of Cid.

“I am speaking to you from the future.”  Her eyes shuttered, and she said softly, “By the time our conversation ends, I may have perished.”

“Why are you telling me this?  And why not talk to Cloud instead?  He’s obviously the only person in the whole world who cares about you.”

“This is a mimicked ability and not innate.  I can only do this with someone I have a pre-established connection with, and not for long.”

“A pre-established…?”

She narrowed her eyes; she was irritated.  “Someone I am either related to or very close to in some way, like a spouse.”

Squall made a disgusted noise.

Ultimecia looked at him a moment then said, “I need you to save me, if you can make it in time.”

Squall snorted.  “Then I think I’ll go back to bed and sleep all night and all day tomorrow.”

“Insolent fool.  Do you want Cid’s location or not?”

“Fine – “ Squall barely finished the word before he was bombarded with muddled sounds and images:

Pain, shouting, fuchsia.  Someone says “don’t touch the” and then Bartz is being stabbed.  No, it’s Squall being stabbed in the shoulder and falling, falling.  They’re walking away from Ultimecia’s castle.  Ahead of them there’s a road and a left turn, then a right.  Tall cliffs.  Kefka’s tower in the distance.  Bartz says, “I’ll prove it!” to someone, then turns to Squall.  The smell of flowers.  Turn left where the end of the cliffs reach the last Chaos gate, and then you reach a castle made of crystal.  Cid is in there.  The scent of death.

Squall came out of the vision gasping for breath.

“He’s noticed,” said Ultimecia.  She seemed to be distressed but trying to hide it.

“Who’s noticed what?” said Squall angrily.

“Cid has noticed me.  This is farewell, but I leave with this parting warning: _don’t touch_ the crystal substance, it’s highly contagious and there’s no cure.”

“Wait a minute,” said Squall.  “You showed me the way, but you showed me something else.  Images of Bartz, what are they - ?”

“To power this connection I had to hijack a time loop.  You will experience or perhaps have already experienced some glimpses into past and future…” She was fading.

Squall stood from the bed.  “Come back!  What did you do to me!”

She was gone.

Squall woke up Bartz and then marched to Cloud and Kuja’s room, bursting in.  “Ultimecia sent a message to me.  I know where Cid of the Lufaine is!”

Behind him, Bartz rubbed his eyes tiredly and yawned.  Kuja groaned and rolled over, putting a pillow over his own head.  Cloud, seemingly naked under his blanket, sat up.  “What’s going on?”

Squall explained most of it before Kuja interrupted with a, “No one cares!  Go back to bed!”

“Why did she go to you and not me?” asked Cloud.  Bartz picked up a glass bottle from the bedside table and examined it.

“She said something about a pre-established connection,” Squall mumbled.

Cloud nodded like that made sense.  “I suppose we had better go – “

“No!” said Kuja.  “We have finally found us decent bedding to tumble and slumber, and I’m sure Lady Yuna and Sir Jecht would agree with me when I say we should go in the morning.”

Still holding the bottle, Bartz said guiltily, “Kind of agree with Kuja on this one, babe.  We can go first light.”  He turned to Cloud and held the bottle up.  “By the way, what is this?”

*

Cloud was wearing all black this time: black jeans with a wolf detail on his top.  Squall nodded to him as he sidled up next to him, admiring and preferring Cloud’s current outfit to his soldier uniform.  Squall too had changed back to his leathers.  They were outside Ultimecia’s castle and were looking at the road ahead.

Yuna and Jecht came to stand on Squall’s other side.  Yuna had changed to a halter neck top and shorts with a skirt-like detail; she looked determined and ready to fight.  Bartz came up next to Jecht in white shirt and pants, over which was a blue tunic and red cape.  Lastly, on the far end, Kuja glided over in a long jacket and knee-high boots over blue pants, and atop his head was a large mage’s hat.  Everyone tilted their heads to look at him.

He tilted his head right back and raised an eyebrow.  “What is it?”

“You look,” said Cloud, “really, um.  Really good.” Then he blushed.

Kuja smirked.  “I am aware.”

They all turned back and looked at the road ahead.  “So this is it,” said Yuna.  She touched Squall’s arm.  “You were the one with the dream, so lead the way.”

So together they walked down the road.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Cloud murmured to Squall.  “You know how in movies the heroes walk side by side in slow motion to rock music or something?”

“Not really,” said Squall.  “I barely remember anything from my world, especially movies.”

Cloud sighed.  “Your memory is worse than Tidus’s.  When we were bored, he and I used to reenact – “

Yuna grabbed Cloud’s arms suddenly, stopping him in the middle of the road.  “What did you say!”

“What?”

“Just now!  You said a name!  What was it?”

Cloud looked perturbed.  “You mean Tidus?  He’s one of my friends...”

Jecht had come over too and he was glaring at Cloud, arms crossed.  Yuna let go of Cloud and ran both hands through her hair.  “You never mentioned him before, why?” Jecht demanded.

“I have,” said Cloud, though he looked unsure.  “Maybe… not by name.”

“Are you and Tidus lovers?” Kuja asked Yuna delicately.  Yuna nodded slowly, lips pressed together as if she was holding back a whimper.

“You never thought to tell us he was here?” Jecht snapped at Cloud.

Cloud scowled at him.  “How was I supposed to know you were from the same world?  He never mentioned you!”

There was a pause where Yuna stared at Cloud with wide eyes.  Jecht growled.  “Tidus is my _son_ , asshole.”

Cloud went pale.  “It – came out wrong.” He looked at Yuna apologetically.  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Kuja placed a comforting hand on the small of Cloud’s back, but his next words were to Yuna.  “My Lady, of all the allies Cloud and I have come across in this world, Tidus appeared to be the one who had the least retention of memories.  His amnesia is no fault of anyone in this party, and you know in your heart that just because he has forgotten you, he has not truly _forgotten you_.  You must believe that.”

Yuna nodded slowly, then squared her shoulders.  “I do.”

“We’ve been wasting time,” Jecht grunted, “fluffing around in the labyrinth and sleeping in fucking _beds_.  This isn’t just about your friend Zidane, this is about Tidus too.”

“And Ultimecia,” Bartz put in.  “Er, right?”

Squall gave him a doubtful look, but Cloud nodded at Bartz gratefully.

“Squall, please lead the way,” said Yuna.

“And make haste,” Kuja added.

For the next few hours Squall led them down the road, turning left at one fork and then right at another, just as the dream has showed him.  Kefka’s tower was a foreboding dark image that sat behind the cliffs.  When the cliffs ended, Squall took them left and to a gate that had Chaos’s sigil blazed upon it with ever-burning fire.

They stopped.  Squall turned to his friends and said, “It’s on the other side of this gate.  What lies beyond is a castle whose walls are stuck with crystal shards.  We can’t touch any crystals; even the walls could be covered in it.”

“A castle made of pure poison?  How delightful,” Kuja drawled sarcastically.

“Some of us are going to die,” Squall said.  He knew he was being tactless, but he was also speaking the truth.  He looked at Bartz and spoke to him specifically, voice an octave lower, “It’s going to be dangerous and I think you’re going to…” _get stabbed in the heart_ … “You could die.  And I – “

“Are you seriously about to say I should stay behind so I don’t get hurt?” said Bartz in disbelief.  “Babe, you’re supposed to be the smart one!”

Squall took Bartz’s hands in his own.  “I can’t lose you, but I also can’t ask that of you.”

“Um, _duh_ , of course you can’t!  Because I would say no!  I am definitely fighting today, Squall, and I love that you care about my wellbeing that much, but let’s be real here: Zidane is my friend too and the only way we are going to save him is _together_.”

Squall nodded, letting go of Bartz’s hands so he could break the seal on the gate with a simultaneous swipe and shot from his gunblade.

A winding brick road led them down to the monstrous castle in the distance.  But they were blocked by a giant wall of ice being held by –

“Terra,” Cloud whispered.  The girl was frozen mid-spell and encased in crystal.  Squall examined the slight girl and then the wall.

“She was holding something back,” he observed.

“Or several some _things_ ,” said Bartz, pulling his dagger from its holster around his hips and poking at the wall of ice with it.  “I think we can get through here pretty easily.

Cloud threw a fire ball at the wall and it melted a hole big enough for everyone to duck through.  When he was through, Squall turned and looked at the wall.  It was pock-marked and slashed in several places.  “Definitely several somethings,” he agreed.

They went on their way.  “She a friend of yours?” Jecht asked Cloud, gesturing behind them with his head.

“No,” said Cloud.  “I mean, she was always being controlled by Kefka much like Sephiroth was controlling me and so I felt for her.  But I never… we weren’t friends.  But maybe I should have – “

“You cannot save everyone you meet, Cloud,” said Kuja as he glided along.

“…I think that sometimes I should try.”

“You saved my life,” Kuja said, “is that not enough?”

“I did that because I love you.  And even then all it did was get us into this mess.”

“This,” Kuja gestured around at the darkness and the broken brick road and the ice wall behind and the crystal castle ahead, “is not your fault.”

The great doors to the castle had been broken open from the outside.  With trepidation Squall and the party walked in, weapons drawn as they went.  It was a long hall, and from the far end, Cid of the Lufaine, still within Zidane’s body, emerged.

“My friends!” cried Cid, sounding elated and relieved.  “You have come!”

Squall squinted at Cid as he came closer.  Zidane was almost unrecognisable: his long blonde hair was in a disarray, and the dark make-up around his eyes was smudged and running down his face in two long black lines.  His lips were dark red and smudged like he had been messily eating blackberries, and his teeth were white and sharp.  He opened his arms wide to welcome them, his robe draped over his thin shoulders and arms.

“What the actual fuck,” said Squall.

“Okay so this is way worse than I thought it would be,” said Bartz.  He looked at Cloud out of the corner of his eye.  “I totally get why you guys ran away.”

Cid spotted Cloud.  “My devoted, my most loyal follower!  Cloud, you have come back to me, and you brought Kuja with you?  And you brought _friends_ ,” Cid added with a happy sigh.

“If I’m your most loyal follower then you must be in serious trouble,” said Cloud.

Cid’s smile froze.  His mad, wide eyes looked from one to the other individually. Then he frowned, petulant.  “Six warriors journey far to meet their god and decide on destruction over love.  So then they must soon find their final fantasy.”  Then he tilted his head and stared at Yuna.  “My dear, what are you doing?”

Yuna had stepped back from the group and had started to perform a Sending.

“I have many children,” said Cid, and then he turned on his heel and walked away, exiting the hall from where he’d come.

“’I have many chil – ‘?  Oh shit!” Bartz shouted, point to the wall to their right.  A rip in what seemed like space, not the actual wall, was forming.  It was dark and smokey and oozing, growing larger.  And then crystallised bodies were crawling through.

“Manikins!” Cloud shouted.  And then the six of them were fighting the sudden cannonade of bodies, all copies of different people, some of them and some of others.  Squall recognised many of them but he didn’t think too deeply about it, he just fought and fought.  _So this must have been what Terra had been holding back_ , he thought.  He, Jecht and Yuna were pushed down the hall by the horde.

“I’ll cover you,” Squall told them.  “Get to the next room!  You have to follow Cid and – “ He couldn’t finish as a Cloud manikin came at him from the side.

Jecht and Yuna made it through the door.  “They just keep coming!” Bartz shouted, and Squall slashed his way over to him.

Together Squall and Bartz held off the manikins so Cloud and Kuja could run to the door, and then they were fleeing the fight themselves and falling through.  Kuja slammed the door shut behind them with a wave of his hand, and sealed it with ice.

Squall and Bartz took a moment to catch their breath.  Then Squall looked up and saw where they were.

It was another ornate long hall, only this hall was decorated with statues.

No, not statues.  At first Squall thought they were just petrified manikins, but there was something different about them, something more human.

There was fear in their expressions.

Jecht was holding onto Yuna’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she was whispering.   She put her fingers in her mouth and blew out a long, sad whistle, her cheeks stained with tears.  Squall looked past her, and so did Cloud.

“Tidus,” Cloud whispered.

Tidus was frozen in crystal.  Like Terra.  Like Sephiroth.  Squall looked past Tidus and saw Ultimecia frozen in an alcove; it seemed she had been trying to hide.

Kuja glided further up the hall and then looked up at a tall, crystallised armoured man.  “Golbez,” said Kuja, “my apologies.”  He glided over to others and named them as he went.  “Cloud of Darkness.  Hmmph, Kefka, no loss there.  Garland, and the Emperor; well, I am surprised.”

“Exdeath,” Cloud noted.

Bartz saw him too but didn’t seem unhappy about it.  “This place is a tomb,” he said.

“Do you like it?” said Cid.

Once again he was down the hall.

“What have you done to them,” Cloud demanded.  “They’re all – they – “

“I told you: all I want is world peace,” said Cid.  “But they would not stop arguing and arguing and I felt, perhaps, I had made a mistake trying to converse with people.”

“So bring them back,” said Jecht gruffly.

“And give Zidane back,” Bartz added, “and go back to being a faceless voice where no one will talk to you!”

But Cid was shaking his head.  “I cannot, not now.  I must finish what was started.  I wanted the whole collection but Sephiroth escaped while Terra held back my children.  And you,” he added, looking to Cloud and Kuja, “will help finish what was started.  I must keep the dream of the final fantasy going.  It’s better this way, more quiet.  They’re sleeping, sleeping is how we have dreams…”

Squall was getting impatient with this old man’s mumbling.  Yuna, too, must have felt the same way because she summoned Ifrit suddenly, fire falling from his mouth as he flew at Cid.  Cid barely managed to block it in time, and as Ifrit disappeared, Cid staggered, breathing shakily, the hem of his robes on fire.

Then he threw a shard of crystal at her.  Jecht intervened, blocking it with his giant sword, but he staggered backwards himself, accidentally pushing Yuna into Tidus.

“I must sit on my throne,” Cid was saying, seemingly to himself than to anyone else.  “I must think this through.  The dream can be realised.”  He left again.

Yuna examined her own shoulder.  “I’ve touched the crystal,” she said quietly, breathless.  “It’s… very painful.”

“ _No,_ ” said Jecht in despair.  He examined her infection.  Squall could see from where he stood: her shoulder had started to crystallise, slowly spreading over her skin.

“Yuna,” said Jecht, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.” She squared her shoulders and looked at each of them in turn.  “Bartz, it’s up to you now.”

Bartz was wringing his hands.  “But – “

She walked up to Tidus and looked up at his petrified face.  “We’re together again,” she told him.

“Yuna…” said Jecht.  “I have a son.  But… I also have a daughter.  I want you to know that.”

Yuna nodded to him, smiling bravely.  “Thank you, Sir Jecht.  And thank you, everyone.  Please be brave.”  And then she stepped into Tidus and embraced him, lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as if to go to sleep.

Because she was pressed against the crystal and had given in, it took less than a minute for the crystallisation to take over her completely.  Now there was a statue of two lovers together at last, after being apart for such a long time.

Everyone stared at the lovers for a while, a moment of silence for their almost-deaths.  Then Cloud said, “We need to go.  If we can defeat Cid, then maybe Yuna and Tidus will return to us.”  He tilted his head toward Bartz.  “If the rest of us distract Cid, think you can perform the Sending?”

“I have to be in the same room as him,” Bartz said hesitantly.  “He’s sure to notice.”

“We’ll cover you,” Squall promised.

“I’m not going,” said Jecht.

They others looked at him.  “But we need your help!” said Bartz.

“My place is here, kid,” said Jecht, gesturing at the statue of his son and practical daughter-in-law.  “I have to protect them.  Besides, if the manikins come again I can hold them off.”

“That’s a stupid idea,” Squall told him matter-of-factly.  “We’re about to end this; we need your help now more than any other time before.”

“I have to protect them, they’re my kids.” He looked at Cloud.  “You gotta kid, you get it.”

Cloud hesitated before nodding slowly.  “Leave him here,” Cloud told the others.

“And then there were four,” Kuja drawled as they turned towards the door to the throne room.

*

When they entered, Cid of the Lufaine was draped over his throne, chin resting on his palm, eyes vacant like he was thinking very deeply.  Squall had never seen Zidane look such a mess.

To Cid’s left Chaos was crouched, head hanging like scolded dog, breathing heavily.

“I believe it is best,” said Cid thoughtfully, “if I just kill you and then reset your memories so you’re more compliant.”

Squall, Cloud and Kuja stood in a line together, blocking Bartz from view.  Behind them, Bartz waved his rod in an arc, starting the Sending ceremony.

“What’s wrong with Chaos?” Cloud asked Cid.  “He’s all… green.”

Cid’s gaze focused on Cloud.  “I put a crystal shard in his temple,” he said, as if it were perfectly normal.  Then he sat up on his throne to look over their heads.  “Whatever it is you are doing,” he called to Bartz, “it won’t work.  I am far too powerful.”  He gestured at Chaos.  “Kill them.”

Chaos, a huge and impressive winged beast with four arms, roared and leapt at them.  Three of them fought him off as Bartz retreated to a corner to continue the ritual.  But the room wasn’t as sturdy as it looked, and the magic Kuja and Cloud were throwing was starting to make the walls and part of the ceiling crumble.  After Squall shot Chaos several times, Chaos stumbled, and Cloud hit him with an attack so hard Chaos caused one wall and the floor to cave in.  it seemed there were levels below, and a strong draft wafted up through the gaping hole in the floor.

Suddenly Cid cried out, clutching his head.  Squall could see that his edges were blurring like he wasn’t quite whole anymore, and then Cid was yelling and throwing crystal shards –

Squall dodged a large one, but a second later wished he had taken the brunt of the attack.  Because Bartz had been hit, purple shard going into his chest and out the other end.  And Squall watched hopelessly as the light from Bartz’s eyes was fading, and he tipped back into the hole.

Squall dashed after him, screaming his name, but then Cloud grabbed him and pulled him back just as the roof caved, stone bricks falling into the hole Bartz had just fallen into.  Squall _hated_ Cloud then, wanting nothing more than to dive into the abyss with Bartz.

*

Squall tore away from Cloud’s grip, going into a raging Ex Burst and attacking Chaos rapidly.  The god-beast roared and whimpered under the onslaught.  Most of the room was destroyed; only the throne, steps, back wall and some floor remained.  Cloud gestured at Cid with his chin and said to Kuja, “You have to go – do something.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Kuja shouted at him.  He looked afraid.  “I cannot – “

Cloud looked at Cid, then Kuja, then the battle.  “I have to help Squall.  Just – do what you can!”  And then Cloud was throwing fire balls at Chaos.  There was no way he and Squall could beat a god, even if it looked as if they had the upper-hand.  Chaos was disorientated but still extremely overpowered.

Kuja glided up the throne steps and took Cid’s hands in his.  Cloud was too caught up in the fight to hear the whole conversation, but he would learn later what was said:

“You cannot beat me, child,” Cid told Kuja.

“I’m not here to beat you,” said Kuja.  He shrugged one shoulder and gave Cid a sad smile.  “Our summoner and our mimic are gone; you’ve won.  Here now in my final moments, I only have one wish…”

Cid looked at him with pity.  “Wishes are something I can grant.  So name it.”

“I want to say goodbye to Zidane.” Kuja looked deep in Cid’s eyes and gripped his hands tightly.  “Zidane, you are my brother.  I am sorry, and I love you.”

Cloud paused in the fight to look up at the throne.  A bright light was starting to consume Kuja and Cid from their clasped hands and outwards.  Cid was yelling, “No no no!” but Kuja would not let go.

And then Cid was expelled from Zidane’s body, floating there behind Zidane, transparent and shocked. He looked like an older, madder version of Warrior of Light.

Then he turned his ghostly form, face twisted in anger, in Cloud’s direction and flew right at him.

He pushed into Cloud’s body.  Cloud clutched his head and screamed.  Cloud was bombarded by flashbacks, old memories, old feelings, and white hot pain:

 _Denzel’s got the geostigma_ , Tifa had told him, bags under eyes that implored him with passionate sadness.  He saw his mother's body burning but could do nothing to save her as the roof collapsed.  A mountain covered in rocks skinned Cloud’s hands and knees as he crawled up it with the other clones, moaning _Sephiroth… reunion_.  And when he got there, he begged Hojo, please oh please give me a number.  The sunlight was blinding has Cloud reached for Zack even as Zack walked away and to his death.  Cloud clutched at the bars of his prison knowing that he would never be able to leave that basement.  Then the lab assistants pulled him out thrashing and screaming but not even Zack could hear him, passed out as he was on a lab table, blood dripping on the floor.  They had removed one bone and were going to put it in Cloud without anaesthetic.  Sephiroth stabbed Aerith from behind and she fell into Cloud’s arms.  The pain of the geostigma was – is  - is going to be a dull, itching and constant throb and Cloud felt the effects of it on his mind but still he let it.  This planet is punishing me, I tried so hard to save it now it’s punishing me and my – its – my children.  If I could save the planet, I would save it, he thought, and if I could kill it I would kill it.  Cloud had stood motionless as Cait Sith gave Barret a lecture about how Avalanche’s collateral damage included innocent people, and Cloud thought, yes we did that.  All that was left of Banora was a crater, and all that was left of Zack was a body full of bullets, and all that was left of Aerith was a ghost.  A tank of mako –

And then Cid of the Lufaine was screaming in his head: “How can you live like this!” as Cloud, on his knees and clutching his head could only moan.  “How is it you still function, with your blood made of acid and your brain full of trauma?  You are more scar tissue than flesh, and you have the cells of three different entities, and your mind – your mind is irrevocably broken, your burdens are heavier than the sword you wield, your life expectancy was out of date even before you were summoned here and yet you are able to talk and fight?  How is that even possible?  How is it you _exist_?”

“I have…” Cloud whispered.  “I have friends.”

Not knowing if Cloud had kicked him out of if he had expelled himself, Cid of the Lufaine was out of Cloud’s body.  Cloud looked up at the transparent figure just floating there in front of him, expression of disbelief, silver hair undulating around him as if he were underwater.  And behind him a real sight to behold: it was a humungous dragon made of gold and coal, smoke coming out of its nostrils in puffs.

“ _You will go_ ,” Shinryu told Cid, and then Cid was floating up and up and through the hole in the roof, and then he was gone.

Still sitting on the throne, Zidane held Shinryu’s summon stone aloft.  Kuja, kneeling next to him, held his other hand.

Behind Cloud, Chaos was breathing laboriously like he was injured, and Squall was on the ground but conscious, struggling to get up after his fight with Chaos.  It seemed neither had won.

“Is Cid dead?” Cloud asked the dragon.

“ _He can never die,_ ” it answered in an ancient language that somehow Cloud was able to understand, as if the dragon was speaking right into his mind.

Zidane commanded, “Shinryu, I need you to cure everyone of the crystalis.”

Shinryu regarded him with black eyes.  “ _The only way is to end this cycle and begin another._ “

Kuja stood up.  “But if you do that, will we forget this cycle?” he asked.

“ _I will consume your energy and your memories,_ ” Shinryu confirmed.

“Then it cannot be done!” said Kuja.

“We have to, Kuja,” said Cloud, with effort.  Kuja glided over to him and grabbed his arm, helping him up.  “We have to help everyone.”

Kuja pressed his lips to Cloud’s cheek and said softly, “If we start a cycle anew, we’ll forget each other, and the time we had together.”

Cloud’s throat felt thick with anguish.  “Yuna… and Tidus…”

“I can save them,” Kuja promised.  “You have to trust me.” He turned to Shinryu and asked,  “If you do nothing now, how long until this cycle ends and the next begins?”

Shinryu seemed to glare down at him from his great height, as if being questioned by such lowly mortals offended him.  Eventually he said, “ _I can give you one hundred years._ ”

Kuja’s fingernails bit into Cloud’s arm.  “That’s longer than a human lifetime!”

“Bartz…” Squall groaned from behind them.  “What about Bartz?”

“I can save him,” Kuja told him with resolve.

Shinryu left them through a portal to the Void.  Kuja used his magic to lift the stones away from where Bartz lay on the lower level.

When they finally made it to Bartz, they found him lying on his back with a crystal protruding from him, rainbow light floating around him as if he were stuck between the moment of death and rebirth.  Kuja hovered his hands over him and concentrated, but the shard wouldn’t budge.

“It’s not working,” said Squall, anguished and frustrated.   He was holding Bartz’s hand.

“Way to keep the positive vibe up, buddy,” said Bartz.  His breath rattled in his throat and he looked very pale. With his other hand he took Zidane’s.  “Good to see you.”

Zidane gave him a tired half-smile.  “Yeah.”

“I must – “ Kuja began.  Then he held Bartz’s head and looked him in his eyes, their gazes locked upside down.  “You have been a good friend,” said Kuja, “and I love you for that.”

Light shone from Kuja’s hands.  The crystal disintegrated into several shards of pure light. 

Bartz let Squall hold him close to his chest as he died, and as the light faded, Kuja fainted.

And then Bartz was gone.  Cloud lifted Kuja in his arms and together Cloud, Zidane and Squall waited for Bartz to respawn.

 

*

Bartz was walking towards them, through the grass and under the sunlight.

Zidane did a handstand in front of Squall.  “There’s some definite soreness,” said Zidane as he flipped back onto his feet, then massaged his own shoulder, rolling his neck.  “Cid never bothered to do any exercise and my muscles are all weak.”  Squall didn’t want to mention that Zidane still had bags under his eyes even though it had been four days since the battle at Cid’s castle.

After Bartz had come back to life, he, Squall, Zidane and Cloud with Kuja in his arms had picked their way out of the tumbled down castle.  When they’d made it to the second hall they’d asked Jecht to come with them, but Jecht, sitting cross-legged in front of Yuna and Tidus, had shook his head no.  “This whole world is a shithole,” he’d said with a grimace.  “Where am I to go?  To Sanctuary, and live with all those numbnuts?  Forget it; my place is here with my kids.”

“We’ll come back for you,” Cloud had told him.

“Tch, don’t bother.”

Back in the glade, Bartz made it to Zidane and Squall.  “I’ve been meaning to give something to you,” Bartz told Squall.  He pulled from his pocket a chocobo feather.  “It’s my lucky feather.  I want you to have it.  If we ever get separated again, you can look at this feather and remember that I’m never far away.”

Bartz’s warm hand grabbed Squall’s and he smacked the feather into his palm.  Squall stared down at it, a deep warm feeling spreading from his belly to his chest.

“Thanks,” he murmured, not trusting himself to say anything else.

“I can’t believe you two are together,” Zidane chirped from behind Bartz.  “Like, _together_ together.”

Bartz turned to him, back to Squall, and said, “’Course we are!  Here, I’ll prove it to you,” and he turned back around, wound his arms around Squall’s neck and kissed him deep and slow.  Squall put his arms around Bartz’s middle and held him close, enjoying the warm hard press of Bartz’s body as he lazily explored Bartz’s mouth.

Behind Bartz Zidane made over the top vomit noises.  “Okay I get it, so you’re not playing a practical joke on me, pretending to be boyfriends.  So you know, you can… you can stop now.  It’s okay you can stop.  Guys. Guys… GUYS!”

“What is that awful racket,” someone moaned from the tent nearby.

Kuja, hair a lavender coloured mess, poked his head out of the tent and scowled at the triumvirate.

“Rise and shine sleepy-head,” Zidane sing-songed.

Squall pulled his mouth away from Bartz’s, but they kept their arms around each other, smiling shyly.

“How long have I been asleep?” Kuja asked Zidane, paying Squall and Bartz no mind.

“About four days,” said Zidane.  “And by the way… it’s good to see you and… and thanks for – you know – saving me -“

Kuja waved him off with a pained expression.  “Oh please spare me.  Where is Cloud?”

Now it was Zidane’s turn to look pained.  “He was with you the first day.  But then he left.  We’re not sure where he's gone off to.”

Kuja took a deep breath and looked to the side.  “I know where he is,” he said quietly.

 

*

Cloud spread the map of the labyrinth out against the wall and set the pins in its corners.

He looked at his handiwork for a moment, before he felt a presence enter his abode.  He turned to see Kuja standing in the doorway, watching him with a wan expression.

“You’re awake,” said Cloud.

“Either that, or I’m dead,” Kuja quipped as he strode into the small place.  He put one hand on the table.  “This is where it all began.”

Cloud swallowed down the lump in his throat.  “Yeah.”

“Cloud, what are you even doing here?”

“I had suppressed memories,” began Cloud, trying to find the words to explain.  “Cid brought them out, the ones so deep down Shinryu couldn’t get to them.  And they…” He looked at Kuja with eyes that burned.  “Every time I make a decision, or I try to do the right thing, I somehow get it so wrong.  And then the people I love get hurt.  Kuja I… I’m no good to anyone.”

“Oh I see,” said Kuja, eyes narrowed, “you’re breaking up with me.”

“No!  I – no.” Cloud rubbed both hands over his face.  “I can’t hurt you again.  And if I hadn’t convinced you to run away with me, you could have saved Zidane so much earlier, and Yuna would still be alright and… you had the power to save Zidane this whole time.”

Kuja crossed him arms.  “Yes I held that power within me, but I did not know of its existence, or how to wield it.  I still do not understand it or its potential, or how to use it without fainting like a damsel.” He came closer and put his hands on Cloud’s arms, smoothing them up to his biceps.  “So you have made mistakes; it appears you are human after all.  Or am I wrong?  Did Cid show you your true nature: are you a Sephiroth clone?”

Cloud thought back, shuffling through the flood of memories.  “I am,” said Cloud, “but I also had a human mother.”

Kuja went up on his tiptoes and pressed his mouth softly to Cloud’s, their lips just resting there together.  “One hundred years we have together before the memory of these moments are whisked away like a silk scarf caught in the breeze,” Kuja whispered against him.  “Let us not wallow too long in self-pity.”

Cloud’s eyes fluttered closed.  “You can’t save Yuna and Tidus.”

“Can’t I?”

“It took so much out of you to save Zidane and Bartz; I don’t want to lose you again.”

“We shall find a way to save them, you and I,” Kuja told him.  “You will complete the map of the labyrinth of heart and thought, and I shall perfect the magic that is held within me.”

Cloud dragged his mouth across Kuja’s cheek and down his neck.  “Alright,” he whispered.

 

End.


End file.
